


don't leave me tongue-tied

by dawnshine



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bickering, Denial of Feelings, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Lee Minho | Lee Know is Whipped, Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Oblivious Han Jisung | Han, Porn with Feelings, Slow Burn, Switching, Teasing, but mostly bottom minho, idiots with benefits to lovers, im talking dense as a brick, like an emotional slow burn, physically not so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:53:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 57,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29494620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnshine/pseuds/dawnshine
Summary: After wishing on a star, Jisung develops the bizarre ability to see "lust gauges" of the people around him, displaying the current arousal levels of their owners. As if that weren't strange enough, his best friend Minho's gauge is always filled to the brim despite him being one of the most calm and collected people Jisung knows. Is something wrong with his new power, or is Minho seriouslythathorny?Jisung figures he should take matters into his own hands―literally―before Minho's unhinged lust becomes a serious problem. Other problems arise, like worrying over Minho so much he has no time to use his new power to score himself a girlfriend.That, and the complicated feelings that inevitably come with the territory of sleeping with his best friend.»Russian
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Kim Seungmin/Seo Changbin, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 189
Kudos: 735
Collections: MINSUNG FICATHON: Round One; 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is my entry for [minsung ficathon](https://twitter.com/minsungficathon), P085!  
> the prompt i chose is paraphrased in the summary, basically - the concept/plot is based on a manga called "my quiet best friend’s just tongue-tied." frankly i wouldn't recommend it as it contains some gross dub-con elements, but you **will not** find those in this fic. everything is explicitly consensual.  
> just so you know what to expect: the smut probably makes up around 40% of the fic (lmao) and is mostly vanilla.  
> in the third scene of ch1, jisung witnesses sexual assault (groping) that's stopped before it goes very far, but here's a heads up just in case.
> 
> i know the concept is ridiculous, but bear with me LMAO i promise it's soft. since it's long and split into chapters feel free to leave your thoughts as you read - i'd love to hear if anything made you laugh/groan in exasperation, and knowing jisung you probably will at least do the latter hehe. i hope you enjoy~

Lee Minho is an enigma.

He's Jisung's best friend of five or so years, so it's not like he's a stranger by any means, but Jisung often finds himself feeling completely dumbstruck when he realizes he really just _does not know that much_ about Minho.

He does know some things. He knows that Minho loves cats perhaps more than life itself and has three of his own which he spoils half to death. He knows Minho is terrible at any sport involving a ball despite being _very_ physically capable and excelling in things like boxing and martial arts. He knows Minho will give him just about anything, _do_ just about anything if he asks, or even if he doesn't―like when he shovels some of his meat onto Jisung's plate unprompted or shows up with an extra americano in hand.

He also knows that Minho has an extreme case of resting bitch face, betraying none of his true thoughts or emotions that are definitely there (right?).

It's not as if Minho is cold or unfeeling, though he comes across that way to many who don't know him well. He's really quite attentive and selfless, always putting others' needs before his own. He can make Jisung laugh harder than anyone else, can put him at ease and make him experience a comfort only Minho can provide.

Sometimes, Jisung finds himself feeling like he only knows his best friend on a surface level. They spend so much time together that they're practically joined at the hip, sleepovers and movie nights and coffee dates a strong staple in their friendship since high school all the way up until now, in college. Minho's mom is like a third parent to Jisung. His cats adore him. Minho loves him, surely, or else he wouldn't spend so much time with him, tolerate his bullshit, and return his bullshit in equal measure.

But he can't help but feel like he doesn't really _know_ him, his past, his deeper thoughts and feelings. He doesn't know why Minho's dad left or where he is, if he's alive; it just never came up, and Jisung never pokes or prods for answers regardless of his curiosity. He doesn't know about his childhood, his family beyond his mother and cats, his friends outside of school. He doesn't even know if Minho has ever had a girlfriend, hasn't heard about his first kiss, _assumes_ he isn't a virgin but doesn't know for sure.

Minho is genuinely the most attractive guy―hell, _person_ ―Jisung has ever laid his eyes on. Half of the people they pass in the hallways practically trip over their own feet when he looks their way, yet Jisung has never heard _anything_ about his love life, which certainly must exist with a face and a body like that, not to mention a kind, endearing personality beneath his hardened, sarcastic exterior.

Jisung figures if Minho had a serious relationship, he would tell him. Unless he's just sparing his feelings, since Jisung is always complaining about his lack of a love life of his own. So ultimately, he decides not to pry; Minho has always been a private person and he doesn't want to push him, a little worried to see how he'd react to having that privacy breached.

To fill the void left by Minho's mysterious tendencies, Jisung is content to bother him with his woes on a regular basis as he laments his lack of a girlfriend.

"I can't believe I got ghosted _again_ ," he whines, flopping down on his bed next to Minho who's scrolling lazily through his phone. "I really thought this one was going somewhere!"

"You say that about every girl who ghosts you," Minho points out, face and voice void of emotion.

Jisung pouts. He doesn't expect much more from Minho, and honestly, he can't even be upset with his reaction because of how many times he dumps this kind of stuff on him. There's only so many things one can say to comfort a sad sack like Jisung, and Minho has long since run out, it seems.

 _(sorry,_ Minho had texted him one night after another one of his crushes fell through and he sobbed to chick flicks while Minho sat by, indifferent, _i wish i didn't suck at comforting ppl. you'll find someone who realizes how amazing you are._

Jisung had screenshotted the text, because it's not every day Minho says something so… well, nice. Their friendship is filled with joking and teasing and with Minho showing his kindness in so many ways, but rarely with words. He's awkward with emotions in general, Jisung has learned, so it's always a special moment when he drops the rare sweet, sincere compliment.)

If he wanted sympathy and comfort, he'd probably be better off going to Changbin, but even he has a limit when it comes to Jisung's bitching and moaning. Besides, he prefers Minho's company to any empty promises or ineffectual reassurances his other friends could offer him.

"I know, but this one especially!" He sighs as he scrolls through the Netflix menu, looking for some dumb fictional romance to drown his sorrows in. "We had the same taste in music, movies, even anime―Minho, her favorite movie was _Howl's Moving Castle!_ We could have been _soulmates,_ and she just left me in the dust like that."

"I like Howl's Moving Castle," Minho mumbles.

Well, he sure _hopes_ Minho likes Howl's Moving Castle, because as Jisung's favorite movie since childhood, he's made Minho watch it with him at least once a year whether he liked it or not. He's always been thankful for Minho indulging him, but it's not quite on par with meeting a potential partner with similar tastes.

"Yeah, but that's different," Jisung says, nudging him with his elbow where they're pressed against one another. "We're bros."

Minho hums, turning his attention back to his phone while Jisung continues his search for a movie.

He gets tired of reading synopses and checking ratings after several minutes of scrolling, selecting, backing out, repeat―so he just decides to pick a random title with a pretty brunette and her equally attractive love interest on the thumbnail. If all else fails and it's a bust, he and Minho can make fun of it together like they often do.

What he didn't expect was a steamy, fairly explicit sex scene in the first five minutes.

Jisung stiffens, becoming hyper-aware of where his arm and thigh are pressed up against Minho's. He wonders if Minho notices, if he's doing the same thing. Probably not.

Tongue runs along skin, a breathy moan, a whispered plea. Jisung is sure that steam is coming out of his ears by now.

Should he pull away? Wouldn't that make it more weird? Maybe he should just back out of the movie before it's too late, but that might be more suspicious and cowardly than just letting a little sex scene play. Minho would tease him for sure.

It's just a little sex scene. He'll live.

Except it's not just a _little_ sex scene, it just _keeps going_ ―and Jisung is sure it's pushing several boundaries on what they're allowed to show, breasts bouncing, asses full on display, pornographic moans. Jesus, when did Netflix start adding soft porn to their collection?

It's not like Jisung is a _child_. He can handle a sex scene just fine, but it's not the kind of thing he'd prefer to watch with other people, especially not pressed up against the warmth of his best friend when Jisung himself is already extra sensitive and hormonal.

He bites his lip, risking a sidelong glance at Minho. His eyes are trained on the TV, expressionless. He seems to be entirely unaffected, which doesn't come as a shock to Jisung. He isn't even sure he'd know it if Minho _were_ turned on.

Jisung swallows, turning his attention back to the screen and willing the scene to end faster. It only gets worse, the filthy things being said sufficiently flustering him further, as if it weren't bad enough already.

 _Fuck,_ he thinks, squirming and trying to subtly adjust himself. Having known Minho for so long, from the rocky midst of puberty until now, there's been an unfortunate amount of boner spottings between them. But for fuck's sake, Jisung is almost twenty! He should be able to control himself, or be better at hiding his arousal if nothing else.

Minho tilts his head towards Jisung just so, attention grabbed by his uneasy shifting, and he knows he is _in for it._ Damn Minho and his observant nature.

"Is this turning you on?" Minho asks, lips curling into a feline grin. It's one Jisung knows all too well from years of putting up with his teasing. He wants to dive under the covers and never come up. "I didn't realize you were _that_ sexually frustrated."

"Shut up," Jisung groans, hiding his burning face in his hands. "I didn't know this would be so―so _explicit."_

"It's not that bad."

Yeah, easy for him to say. He probably watches porn with a straight face. Hell, he always puts up such a stoic and unbothered front that he probably _has sex_ with a straight face.

_Okay, gross. Don't think about what your best friend looks like while having sex, Jisung._

"Whatever," Jisung grumbles, shaking himself from the turn his thoughts had taken by grabbing the remote. He exits out of the movie and sets off to look for something else to watch. "Let's just watch some fucking cartoons or something."

"Can't handle the romance anymore, Jisungie?" Minho teases. He then shocks Jisung by swinging a leg over his lap and moving to _straddle him,_ hands on his shoulders as he grins down at him mischievously. Jisung's blood damn near turns cold. "Should I take your mind off of her?"

Again, Minho and Jisung are close as can be, platonically. They're entirely comfortable with one another and prone to jokingly flirting every now and then. _Platonically._ It's perfectly normal, Jisung thinks, just two best friends messing around.

The thing is, Minho has never climbed into Jisung's lap while he's sporting a fucking _boner._

He malfunctions momentarily, staring up at Minho with his mouth hanging open dumbly. Minho bursts into giggles before he can even formulate a response, which snaps him out of his trance and allows him to gather up the sense to shove Minho off of him.

"Fuck off, man." There's no real bite to it, just Jisung shaking his head in exasperation as Minho lies on his back where he'd been shoved and laughs, pleased with himself.

"If you need to step out for a minute, then by all means," Minho says, sitting back up next to Jisung once he's collected himself. He leaves some space between them this time and Jisung is glad; he's still trying to process the feeling of Minho straddling him, just inches from rubbing against his dick.

 _Stop. Stop stop stop._ That is _not_ a train of thought he wants to chase. He suppresses a shudder.

"This is _my room,_ " Jisung reminds him. "I could just kick you out if I wanted to jerk off."

Minho clicks his tongue, staring blankly at his phone again. "You're being so rude to me. _You're_ the one who picked the porno movie."

"I told you I didn't kn―" Jisung huffs. "Just... Can we move on, please? Forget it happened?" He quickly settles on a G-rated title, pressing play. "Can you be a fucking man and watch Ponyo with me?"

Minho sighs, pocketing his phone. "I guess. You're not gonna pop another boner at the hot dad, are you?"

"Wh―Ew, no! Well, maybe," he jokes, tapping his chin. "I dunno. He _is_ pretty sexy."

"Knew you had a thing for DILFs," Minho replies, shaking his head.

"Nah, nah, you've got it all wrong," Jisung argues. "The _mom,_ though?"

Minho makes a noise of disgust. "Here we fucking go again."

"Minho, it's not my fault all animated moms are sexy! Name one who isn't."

He hums, tilting his head back and studying the ceiling in thought for several seconds before an idea comes to him, and he snaps. "The one from Cinderella! The evil step-mother."

Minho has a point, but Jisung doesn't want to give him the satisfaction, so he scoffs in mock disbelief. "You're telling me you wouldn't bone Lady Tremaine? C'mon."

"Your desperation knows no bounds, it seems," Minho sighs. Okay, Jisung kind of walked into that one, but damn. He opens his mouth to argue while also rearing his fist back, pretending to aim a punch, when Minho shushes him with a dismissive hand. "Movie's starting."

"I will spare you just this once," Jisung relents, settling back down in his spot next to Minho.

Ponyo goes off without a hitch, and Jisung is even able to move on from the mortification of getting hard right next to Minho in the meantime. He allows Minho to pull him closer once he's sure his boner has died down, once again comfortable with the contact―happy, even. Jisung has always loved cuddling Minho, warm and soft and safe, and he isn't going to let anything change that, so he aggressively pushes the embarrassing thoughts from his mind.

This time, instead of popping a boner, he cries, but that's nothing new. Rarely is there a movie that _doesn't_ make Jisung cry.

Minho is the polar opposite. Jisung assumes he enjoys it. He doesn't say otherwise, anyway.

Once Minho has headed home for dinner with an adamant reminder about the party they're meant to attend tomorrow, Jisung is left alone with his thoughts as he replays the mortifying events that transpired earlier in his mind.

He can't believe he let himself get so worked up over a sex scene with Minho _right_ next to him―and then that bastard made it worse by crawling into his lap! Jisung's face warms at the memory.

It's not like it's something he'd never expect from Minho. He loves going above and beyond to tease and fluster Jisung, that much is nothing new (and Jisung doesn't shy away from returning the favor either). But the fact that Jisung was hard when he did it, and the memory fills him with a strange, warm feeling in his stomach, _that's_ weird.

Jisung must really be, as Minho said, _that_ sexually frustrated. He can easily chalk up the strange thoughts to a broken heart, or something like that―not that he and that girl were particularly close, but Jisung is a hopeless romantic at heart and had really liked her, had _really_ hoped it was going somewhere, as he always does.

It's whatever. No big deal. He'll find a new girl to talk to eventually. 

...And then she'll get bored of him, too. 

Jisung sighs, propping his chin on his hand with knuckles squished against his cheek, elbow resting on the windowsill as he stares out into the night in an admittedly melodramatic manner. It's a constant cycle of falling too fast, getting his hopes up, and having his heart walked all over.

He blinks sleepily at the sky, wondering what Minho's doing. Probably playing with his cats. A small smile crosses his face at the thought.

His phone buzzes from somewhere within his blankets, and Jisung scrambles backwards, fumbling around for it. Maybe she hasn't given up on him after all?

Once he finally fishes it out from between the sheets, he deflates a bit as he sees Minho's name on his screen, but any disappointment melts away when he unlocks his phone to be met with a photo of Minho from an unflattering angle (as unflattering as it can be for someone as unfairly attractive as Minho, anyway). His phone is held close to his stomach showing Soonie lying down comfortably on his chest, Minho's mouth open wide as he pretends to eat the poor cat whose eyes are closed in blissful ignorance, or perhaps willful avoidance.

Jisung replies with a cluster of heart emojis before pointing his phone out towards the clear night sky, full moon on bright display with stars twinkling about. His thumb hovers over the capture button, intending to send the view to Minho, when something shoots across the dark stretch of sky in a glittering streak, fully grabbing his attention.

It happens a second time, then a third. He perks up, eyes wide, phone nearly slipping from his grasp at the sight―a _meteor shower?_ How did Jisung not know about this?!

He watches in awe, amazed by the galaxy's beauty as more meteors streak through the sky over time, blazing trails of light in their wake. He snaps a picture to send to Minho later, but for now, he sets his phone down on the windowsill and clasps his hands together. It's not every day he sees a meteor shower, after all, and he's just desperate and naive enough to cling to the hopes that wishing on one might have his wishes granted.

_Please, for the love of God, let me have a girlfriend._

Belatedly, Jisung realizes the absurdity of his actions, shaking his head and huffing a weak laugh as he closes his window and falls back onto his pillows with a dull _thump._

_Damn, I'm pathetic._

He heaves a weary sigh, reaching for his phone once more and sending the photo to Minho.

**Minho  
** ooh pretty  
what'd you wish for?

Jisung clicks his tongue. Minho definitely knows by now that Jisung subscribes to the belief of _if you tell anyone, it won't come true._ Pathetic and hopeless as he is, Jisung doesn't want to jinx anything. He types out a joke of a response before clicking his phone off and placing it on his nightstand, turning on his side and burying his face in the velvety soft surface of his cat plush.

**Jisung  
** you~

☆彡

Nothing could have prepared Jisung for what he saw when he stumbled out of bed the next morning.

He opens his door with a creak, heavy eyelids squinting against the light from the kitchen that assaults his eyes before he makes a beeline for his and his roommate's shared bathroom. Jeongin has a class around the same time as Jisung, but is an earlier riser, so naturally he's already finished getting ready (and probably eaten, too) by the time Jisung trudges out from his cave. He's just now exiting the bathroom when Jisung approaches, and―what the _fuck_ is that?

"Morning," Jeongin greets. "Whoa, you look like you just rose from the dead." Jisung blinks sleepily as he approaches, wiping at his crusty eyes and trying to pry them open in order to discern whether he's hallucinating or not.

Hovering around Jeongin's left shoulder ( _wait, hovering?_ ) is what appears to be a... gauge, of some sort? It's almost empty, maybe just ten percent full with a deep red.

Is Jisung dreaming? Perhaps one of those dangerously realistic dreams where you _think_ you got out of bed and go through your entire morning routine only to ultimately wake up confused, still in your pajamas, and thirty minutes late to class?

"What is that?" Jisung asks, reaching his hand out to touch, but his hand only swipes across air. "Huh?"

"What is... what?" Jeongin's brow furrows, looking from Jisung to his shoulder in concern. "Is there a hair on me or something?"

"No, the... the―" Jisung shakes his head, blinking hard. "You really can't see it?"

"See _what?"_

Jisung tries to grab it one more time, a sleepy, confused noise escaping him at the lack of resistance in the air. He reaches down and pinches his own arm to check if he's dreaming, but he doesn't wake up, only yelps in pain.

Jeongin blinks, breaking out into a nervous chuckle. "Okay, well, I don't really have time for your bullshit right now," he says. "I've gotta meet up with Lix before class. I'll see you later."

Normally, Jisung would fight back, yell for him to respect his elders despite only being about six months older. But all he can do now is watch in a daze, staring as Jeongin retreats and that strange thing follows him out the door.

Well, that was fucking _odd._

Jisung is prone to pulling all-nighters and suffering from other horrible sleep habits, so he's accustomed to being a little delusional from lack of sleep, but he's never seen anything quite like whatever that was. Plus, he feels plenty well-rested, albeit a little groggy, so he doesn't know what else could've possibly brought it on.

He shrugs it off once he realizes the time, hurrying to splash some water on his face, shove a beanie over his bedhead, and yank on some clothes before grabbing his bag and making his way towards his class.

"What the fuck?" he gasps under his breath as he spots a student down the hall exiting his dorm, a gauge similar to Jeongin's accompanying him. His is fuller―about half, maybe―and follows him as he strides towards the stairs. He runs into another student, a girl this time, and hers is almost empty. Jisung's mouth feels dry.

_What the actual fuck is going on with my brain?_

Once he exits his dorm building and is met with the view of dozens of students milling about, each with their own gauges, he's seriously starting to freak out, heart rate quickening in panic.

Maybe it's _not_ all in his head...? He ponders the situation, glancing around at all the people and their corresponding meters surreptitiously. They range from full to completely empty, and he has no idea what they could possibly represent. But all of these people having their own meters, all different and specific to them in some way―it seems far too intricate and complicated to be a mere hallucination, especially when Jisung has never experienced anything of the sort in the past.

So if they aren't a product of his brain, and he's _not_ dreaming, then what the fuck is he seeing them for all of a sudden? And why is he seemingly the only one who can? Jeongin had no idea what he was talking about, no one around campus seems to take notice, and he's never heard of anything like this before. Even Google is stumped.

He pockets his phone with a huff when his Google search proves fruitless, deciding to try and take matters into his own hands. Maybe he can figure out the meaning behind the gauges by the time he reaches class if he pays close enough attention.

First Jisung seeks out the first person he can spot with a full meter. It's a girl―a very pretty one, actually, with long black hair and a big pink sweater. Oh wow, she's hot―

 _Focus, focus._ Jisung watches her for a few seconds longer, trying his best not to look like a creep, but there's nothing he can discern from her appearance alone, her face neutral and her body not doing anything other than walking. He switches to another target with a full meter, a tall, skinny guy in a green hoodie scrolling through his phone. Jisung decides a little nosiness is called for, for the greater good or something like that. He wants _answers,_ dammit.

So when he passes by, Jisung, as subtly as possible, peers down at his phone screen while he pretends to crack his neck. _Aha,_ he thinks when he sees the other boy scroll past two or three pictures of curvy, mostly-naked women on Instagram. Maybe that's a good clue; he'll have to keep it in mind.

When observing more full and empty metered passersby provides him with no similarities between them, he starts to wonder if it was a clue at all and starts observing random people regardless of their gauge status.

His wandering gaze lands on a couple holding hands beneath the shade of a tree, and he pushes down the twinge of jealousy he feels to observe their meters. They're about half full each, but then the girl grins, craning her neck to whisper something in the boy's ear and his gauge instantly shoots up to nearly full, his ears reddening at whatever she'd said.

Okay, _that_ seems... telling. And coupled with what he'd seen with the guy and the half-naked women on his phone, it seems an awful lot like these gauges have something to do with their sex drives. Horny meters, if you will.

What he sees on the remainder of his walk to class only further proves that point, after he watches a girl's meter shoot up after her girlfriend grabs her ass, some guy's goes up as he watches a girl bend over to tie her shoes, another girl's creeps up as she eyes a muscly guy in a tank top. There's no other believable conclusion he can come to.

But the question is: _why?_ Why did Jisung of all people suddenly wake up with some unprecedented ability to see physical manifestations of how _horny_ people are, whether either party wants to know or not?

_This makes no fucking sense._

Then he remembers the night before: the meteor shower, the wish he made. Could this be... no. No way, right? Why would the cosmos grant him the ability to see how horny people are?

But then again, he did beg the stars for a girlfriend. And he supposes, if he utilizes this ability properly, it could... help him get one somehow? Or hell, if nothing else, maybe he'd meet a girl horny enough to finally take him past third base.

 _Holy shit,_ he thinks, perking up with a thought. There _is_ that party they're supposed to attend tonight. He can test out his power there; there's bound to be plenty of girls willing to hook up with him, and _now_ he has a tool that can help him find them, as crazy as it sounds and hard to process as it is.

Every time Jisung turns a corner, he expects the strange visions to wash away, but there they remain, plain as day as he enters the building his class is held in. He scans the hallway in search of Minho, but surmises that he must have beat him here and settled into their usual spot.

Oh fuck, Minho. What is Jisung going to say to him? Will it be awkward, being able to see when he's _aroused?_ Should he tell him about this weird power? Would Minho think he's lost it, officially gone off his rocker? Probably. He's not really the type to believe that kind of nonsense, is he?

"Hey."

His best friend's voice and a pat to his ass startles him out of his thoughts with a yelp as Minho approaches from behind and falls into step next to him.

"There you a―" Jisung turns to face him, trailing off with wide eyes at the sight of Minho's meter, filled to the brim with apparent lust. "Whoa."

"Hm?" Minho turns to follow Jisung's gaze over his shoulder, eyes staring right through the meter.

"Uh, nothing..." Jisung clears his throat, nodding gratefully when Minho holds the classroom door open for him. "Thought I saw something."

"You feeling alright?" Minho asks as they make their way towards their seats. "Did you stay up all night watching that dirty movie or something?"

"No!" Jisung huffs. "I just..." 

_I just wished for a girlfriend and got granted a freakish power to see how horny people are―which, by the way, you good, bro?_

Nah, there's no way he's telling Minho. Jisung eyes him warily as he slings his own backpack onto the table, Minho's gauge still full as he takes his seat next to him. What is he so goddamn horny for?

"Today's been weird," Jisung finishes lamely.

"'Today?'" Minho repeats, an eyebrow cocked. "You look like you woke up fifteen minutes ago."

Jisung opens his mouth to argue, but a glance at the clock tells him that Minho is, of course, correct. "Actually, it's been more like twenty," he says just to spite him, sticking his tongue out. Jisung pulls his beanie off and runs a hand through his black mess of a bedhead, trying to tame it from its wild state. He thinks he sees Minho's gauge _move_ out of the corner of his eye and wonders if it's finally going down, but when he turns to it he's met with it still completely full, _concerningly_ so, Minho averting his gaze.

"Whatever," Minho mumbles, shoving his hand in the pocket of his mint-colored cardigan. It re-emerges holding something, plastic crinkling, and then he's dropping a protein bar on the table in front of Jisung.

Jisung blinks at it in surprise, suddenly realizing just how hungry he is. He's entirely accustomed to skipping breakfast and rushing out the door, but it doesn't make him any less hungry. Plus, he and Minho had an early dinner last night, which means it's been far too long since Jisung has eaten anything. But Minho _loves_ his stupid little strawberry protein bars.

He regards Minho with a confused tilt of his head. "But this is your―"

"I know you didn't eat breakfast," Minho interrupts. "Just eat it. You can buy me lunch after class."

 _"Fine."_ Jisung heaves a sigh despite knowing Minho will very likely end up paying for him anyway―not that Jisung would mind returning the favor. It's just that Minho rarely lets him. "Thank you, hyung," he sings, offering a sweet smile as he knocks his knee against the older boy's before he tears into the plastic and the sweet fruity scent fills his nose.

They fall into a comfortable silence while Jisung munches on the blessed protein bar and curiously surveys the gauges of the other students in the room until the professor walks in with―oh, thank God―a low level.

A few minutes into the lesson, curiosity gets the best of him as he glances over at Minho, staring blankly ahead but still sporting a full gauge. Seriously, what the hell, Minho?

Could Jisung have been wrong in his assumption that the gauge correlates to arousal? He finds it hard to believe Minho is sitting there horny as fuck with absolutely no indication of it. In a boring ass literature class, of all places! 

Then again, it's always been hard to tell what Minho's thinking, _and_ Jisung has no idea what else the gauges could possibly mean judging by what he's seen. All signs point to it being lust-related.

He can't believe Minho has been such a horny bastard all this time.

Jisung keeps glancing at Minho inconspicuously throughout the lecture, expecting him to _calm down,_ but he's only met with the sight of a full gauge. Jesus, does he need some privacy? Jisung won't judge if he wants to go jerk off in the bathroom or something. Anything to clear his poor, horny mind. He doesn't though, just sits there and bears it.

Before Jisung knows it, class is over, and he realizes that he didn't hear a damn thing the professor had said, the entire lecture having passed by in a blur of him contemplating this weird power and, mostly, Minho. He's grateful for the distraction of Minho prattling on about something cute his cat Dori did yesterday (accompanied by a video on his phone) as they walk to their destination, always happy to hear him talk about them and see the fond smile on his face as he does.

Jisung tries not to be too put off by the fact that his gauge has not gone down.

The pair runs into Jeongin on the way to get lunch, and he begrudgingly accepts their invitation to join. (At least, that's what he'd _like_ them to think. Jisung knows his roommate likes spending time with him and Minho more than he'd like to admit, no matter how often he complains about how exasperating they are.)

"So are you planning on telling me what your deal was earlier?" Jeongin asks, once they're all seated with their food.

Jisung blinks owlishly at him, having just stuffed his face with chips. Minho gives him a curious look that concerns him; he'd acted strange in front of both of them and he really does not need them putting two and two together.

Well, regardless, he's fairly certain they could _never_ imagine the situation he's somehow landed (wished?) himself in, but still.

"I just rolled out of bed," Jisung dismisses. "Pretty sure I thought you were, like, a dinosaur or something."

"I thought he was acting weird too," Minho adds, observing Jisung carefully as he takes a bite of his own sub sandwich. Even when he's _eating_ his gauge is full? Christ, Minho. "Has our Jisungie finally cracked? Driven to madness by the woes of love?"

"Shut _uuup,"_ Jisung groans, kicking his leg lightly. "If anything makes me go mad, it's gonna be _you."_

"Madly in _love,_ maybe." Minho gives Jisung's hand an exaggerated caress where it rests on the table, making a kissy face while Jeongin makes a sound of disgust.

"You wish!" Jisung retorts, snatching his hand away and using it to flip Minho off while the latter giggles.

 _Huh,_ Jisung thinks with a sudden realization, glancing at his meter. Is _that_ why Minho jokingly flirts with him so much? Because he's irrevocably horny and has no other outlet?

It's not like Jisung really minds either way, but _damn._ He thought _he_ was the desperate one.

Well, okay, he still is. He just didn't expect Minho would be in the same boat whatsoever. Maybe the reason he never opens up to Jisung about his love or sex lives is because they simply don't exist. Jisung feels a bit of relief at the thought, much preferring it to the alternative of Minho keeping it all a secret.

 _I'm gonna get you laid tonight, Minho,_ he silently vows.

"He's being weird again," Jeongin complains, flicking a rolled-up piece of his napkin and hitting Jisung square in the chest. Jisung blinks back to reality and flicks it back with a pout.

"Jisungie is always weird," Minho says matter-of-factly. "I think he's a little shaken up by his most recent heartbreak."

"Again?" Jeongin asks incredulously, mouth falling open. Okay, _that_ was uncalled for.

"No idea what you're talking about," Jisung says. "I've already forgotten her name."

That's a lie, of course. As much as he fantasized about their futures together in the short time they talked, he's going to remember every excruciating detail. For another few months at least; he doesn't have the best memory. But for the most part, when he looks past his silly, idealistic hopes, he can't find it in him to care much even now beyond a little bit of a sting and wounded pride.

Little do his friends know, he's got something _much_ bigger on his plate that's making him act strange―something that may end up helping them all in the end.

"Sure," Minho scoffs. "Let's see your notebook, then. Bet her name's doodled all over it with little hearts."

Jisung gasps, affronted as his cheeks heat up in renewed embarrassment at the memory of a time in highschool that Minho is most definitely referencing. He'd missed a day of school and had to copy notes from Jisung, then repaid his help by giving him absolute _hell_ when he saw Jisung's crush's name in spiraling cursive in the margins, topped off with too many hearts. The teasing lasted for _weeks._

"Will you let that go?" Jisung practically begs. "You're bullying a child, you know."

"Glad you have some self-awareness," Jeongin mumbles, sipping his drink.

"Hey, I'm older than you, twerp!" Jisung kicks Jeongin's foot childishly, only proving his point. "And _anyway,"_ he grumbles, trying to change the subject, "who needs her? Changbin's having a party tonight."

"And?" Jeongin raises an eyebrow. "You're gonna get trashed and forget her, or…?"

"No," Jisung snaps. "Well, maybe. I don't know. But my point was that his parties are always crawling with hot girls."

"Okay?" Jeongin shrugs. "What good is that gonna do you if you're too chickenshit to approach them?"

Once again, uncalled for. Jisung has approached girls at parties before, even gotten his dick sucked a time or two. Granted, it took far too much liquid courage to grant him the confidence to even speak to them, the details are hazy, and none of the handful of girls whose attention he managed to grab wanted anything to do with him afterwards.

(He _did_ throw up on one of them when he had drunk far too much for his own good, but...

Details.)

But _now?_ Now Jisung has something on his side that he can't possibly have been gifted with for any other reason than to get laid and land a girlfriend. 

"I'm not!" Jisung insists. He smiles in what he hopes to be a mysterious manner. "I've got a plan." He hears the subtle sigh Minho lets out and catches Jeongin's eye-roll. "No, seriously! Something's gonna happen tonight."

Jeongin sniffs the air, nudging Minho with his elbow. "Do you smell that? Smells like… easy money."

Minho snickers and Jisung shoots him a glare, sighing. This method is foolproof; why not get a little cash out of it? "Alright, twenty bucks says I hook up with someone tonight."

"I look forward to taking your money." Jeongin reaches across the table and Jisung accepts his hand, shaking it hard. "Minho will have to be your witness, though. I'm not going."

"I have to _witness_ it?" Minho retches.

"No, gross! Just―you know what I meant."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll keep an eye on him." Minho shakes his head and they return to their meals, looking all too unconvinced.

They'll eat their words, Jisung is sure of it.

☆彡

There is certainly no shortage of hot girls at the party, and no shortage of full meters, either.

Despite that, Jisung hasn't had much luck. _Yet_. 

He's keeping his eyes peeled for pairs especially, hoping to score for him and Minho both at once. He did flirt back and forth with a cute redhead whose friend showed up and dragged her away to play games, and another girl who ran off with a squeal when "her song" came on, but nothing sustainable.

 _The night is still young,_ he tells himself.

Minho manages to look entirely unbothered by the lack of female interaction, despite his full gauge, as he gulps down the last of his drink and convinces Jisung to come with him to dance, giggling tipsily. Jisung indulges him and allows himself to relax, having been tense most of the night as well as feeling a little guilty for ignoring his friend in favor of searching for girls. It _was_ for both of their sakes, but still.

Jisung cackles as Minho stumbles and nearly trips over a table on their way, tightening his grip on the older's hand so he doesn't hurt himself (or, if he does, Jisung will come tumbling down right after him and at least he won't suffer alone). They manage to wedge themselves between some dancing bodies to an opening, the air between them humid and almost suffocating. Jisung is definitely going to have to step outside for air after this.

Minho bounces around to the rhythm, both of Jisung's hands in his, and Jisung has to admit how stupidly endearing he is when he's this tipsy and giggly―especially since he's so used to him being so much more closed-off and impassive. Minho should get drunk more often, Jisung muses as he's twirled around, laughing and dizzy from the alcohol in his own system.

Minho releases his hands, eventually, instead grabbing Jisung's hips and yanking him close, startling a yelp out of Jisung as his hands fly to Minho's shoulder to keep from crashing into him.

"Wh―"

"You okay?" Minho asks, just loud enough that Jisung can barely make it out, his eyes soft with concern. "You've been acting a little off. You wanna go home?" Jisung just stares back dumbly while Minho brushes his bangs aside, heart stuttering inexplicably in his chest. He knows Minho is just tipsily affectionate, but to someone else, this might look like...

He pushes off of him quickly, cheeks warm from the thought, and forces out a nervous laugh. "Uh, no, yeah, I'm okay!"

"You sure?" Minho checks. Jisung feels a pang of fondness for him, for his good intentions even if Jisung is very much okay and wants to be here. It isn't always the case, and Minho is always happy to walk him home when he gets overwhelmed and cuddle him through a movie or, oftentimes, until morning.

"I have a bet to win, Minho! I can't run away now!" he insists, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him, eyes wide with determination. Minho frowns, clearly unsatisfied with his answer. "I'm fine, really. Promise." He grabs Minho's hand and links their pinkies forcefully when Minho still looks unconvinced, giving him the sweetest, most reassuring smile he can muster.

A smile creeps back onto Minho's face at the sight, and he starts to say something, but Jisung doesn't register it as he catches sight of something a few feet behind Minho, his stomach churning in dread at the sight.

There's a girl and a guy dancing, pressed together, which is far from out of the ordinary amongst all the sweaty bodies surrounding them―but just from one glance one could tell there was something so _wrong_ about it. The girl's pretty face, sparkling with makeup, is distorted into something between anger and panic as the guy behind her breathes down her neck, hands grabbing her behind and then yanking her back by the hips when she tries to get away.

Jisung's heart drops further at the sight of his gauge, busted and _overflowing._

By the time Minho's followed his gaze and turned to see what's going on, Jisung is already pushing past him and rushing towards them.

"Let go, you fucking creep!" he hears the girl shriek when he gets closer, earning the attention of the people around them.

"Come on, babe." The guy has the nerve to _laugh,_ holding her close while she squirms. Jisung feels sick to his stomach at the sight.

"Hey!" Jisung shouts, buzzed and enraged enough by the display to not be paralyzed by fear―or the fact that this guy is _way_ bigger than him. "She said get off, man."

"She's not gonna fuck you, dude," the other man laughs. With a glance around him, at the other partygoers closing in threateningly, ready to intervene, he rolls his eyes hard and lets her go, holding his hands up in reluctant surrender as she hastily disappears in the crowd. He scowls at Jisung. "There. Happy?"

"I'll be happy when you get the fuck out of here," Jisung says. He feels a light touch on his arm and turns to meet Minho's gaze, steely but concerned. "Call Changbin," he tells him. Minho nods and pulls out his phone.

"Seriously? Gonna run and fucking _tattle_ on me? What are you, twelve?" He steps closer, his bigger frame looming over Jisung. His words are slurred and he _reeks_ of alcohol and sweat. "You look like it."

"Back off before you regret it, man," Jisung warns, steadily and with warranted confidence—maybe not for himself, but his friends, if nothing else. Even if this guy pummels his face in, he's going to get his ass beat by Minho or Changbin, maybe both at once. Jisung would like to see it, just maybe not at the expense of his own pain.

"What are you gonna do, huh?" He shoves lightly at Jisung's chest, closing in on him menacingly. "Why can't you just mind your fucking business?"

Minho moves to step between them, but Jisung pushes past and shoves at the other man's chest, harder. "Why can't you keep your dirty fucking hands to yourself?"

"Jisung, stop. He's not worth it," Minho says, words nearly drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears and the adrenaline beginning to pump through his veins.

"Put your dog on a fucking leash," he spits at Minho.

Minho scoffs. "Why don't you worry about keeping your tiny dick in your pants?"

That would have made Jisung laugh if he didn't kind of fear for their safety right now.

And then any amusement is melting away to be replaced once more by anger as he steps too close to Minho for comfort. "Is that what this is about, huh? You fairies want my cock or somethin'?"

"You're fucking disgusting." Minho gives him a firm shove, a threatening taste of his strength, sending him stumbling back a few steps. "You need to leave."

"You're all full of talk, huh?" He rolls his shoulders when he regains his balance, yelling as he shoves Minho back hard enough to send him crashing into someone standing behind him, "Why don't you fucking make me?"

Jisung sees _red,_ and the next thing he knows, he's got one fist balled up in the motherfucker's shirt and one colliding with _some part_ of his face―honestly, he doesn't care which.

Fists fly, people yell, and a searing pain erupts from Jisung's nose and reverberates through his skull all in the span of a few seconds, until it stops and there are arms around him, pulling him back while he registers Changbin doing the same to the other guy. He feels a surge of satisfaction at the angry red mark he left on the asshole's cheek, sure to bruise, and the blood dripping from his nose.

Changbin drags him away, effortlessly overpowering the taller man and growling threats all the while. Jisung notices Seungmin had joined the crowd, too, presumably with Changbin, and he's standing there watching Changbin manhandle the guy out the front door with a gauge that's almost full.

(Huh, weird. Jisung didn't take Seungmin for a horny bastard. It's always the quiet ones.)

The person restraining Jisung―Minho, he realizes―turns him around to examine his face, hands gently cupping his jaw. "Are you okay?" he asks, eyes flitting around Jisung's face in a panic.

He's perfectly fine, really, but maybe that's because the adrenaline has yet to settle. He feels the wetness of blood trickling from his nose and a stinging pain, but no matter what his face looks like, it was entirely worth it. Fuck that guy for thinking he could show up, _grope_ a girl, touch Minho, and get away with it.

"I'm fine, don't worry," Jisung tells him, wiping at the blood with the back of his hand.

Minho huffs a relieved sigh and relaxes his shoulders. "That was dumb. He was like, twice your size."

"But I still rocked his shit, didn't I?" Jisung gives him a big grin, wincing as it pulls at his apparently split lip.

Minho blinks at him before he huffs out a laugh and says something Jisung doesn't catch because his attention is quickly grabbed by Minho's gauge which is _jolting._

Jisung's heart drops to his feet at the memory of that asshole's gauge, broken and overflowing as he groped and grinded on that girl. What if Minho's gauge breaks? What's going to happen?

No. No, no, no. Minho isn't like that. He's just not _capable_ of it. 

But what if it's beyond his control? What if he's bottled up and repressed his sexual desires for so long that he simply won't be able to keep it from breaking?

Jisung wishes this stupid power came with a goddamn guidebook. All he has to go off of is his own observations and inferences, and it's not nearly enough, but if there's even the slightest risk of Minho doing something like that, then he needs to do what he can to stop him.

"Jisung?" Minho is saying when he tunes back in to reality. "You sure you're good? We should go―"

"Come on," Jisung cuts him off. He grabs his hand and urgently leads him towards the staircase with the upstairs bathroom in mind, ignoring Minho's confused noises.

They round a corner and Jisung has to stop abruptly in his tracks to avoid colliding with someone. Minho crashes into his back, followed by a still-tipsy giggle. Jisung can still feel it, too, in the way he struggles to keep his balance, although the scuffle had sobered him considerably.

He realizes with a start that the person he'd nearly run into is the girl from earlier. "Oh, hey," he says. "You okay?"

"Oh my God," she says, her hand over her mouth in shock as she takes in his appearance. Sheesh, how bad does he look? "Are _you_ okay? Did that happen because of me?"

"No, no!" Jisung assures her, waving his hands frantically. "If not you, it would've been someone else. He had it coming."

"You got him back?" she asks, eyes lighting up when Jisung nods. "Thank you. For that, and for stepping in."

"No problem. Pretty sure he would’ve gotten jumped either way, but..." Jisung laughs awkwardly, turning to make sure Minho is still with him. "I'm gonna go, uh, get cleaned up. Are you gonna be alright?"

"Oh, yeah, totally." She grins at him gratefully. "I found my friend. She's gonna stick with me the rest of the night." She jabs a thumb behind her where Jisung makes brief eye contact with a girl who's watching him with a suspicious glare.

She doesn't have anything to worry about; he's just trying to get his best friend somewhere private so he can get off, truly.

"But, um..." she continues, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind if I slipped away for a minute to... show you my gratitude?"

"Oh," Jisung says, his voice cracking on the single syllable. Of course, the one girl who comes onto _him_ has to do so when he's in the middle of something way more important.

Even if it weren't for his worries about Minho, he isn't sure he'd be able to take her up on it in good conscience, anyway. It would feel... wrong. Like he's taking advantage or something, or had stepped in hoping to get something out of it. So, ultimately, it isn't all that hard to shake his head with an apologetic smile.

"You don't have to, really," he insists. "I need to go get cleaned up and probably ice this or something." He chuckles nervously, poking at his nose gently, but hard enough to sting.

Thankfully, she doesn't seem all that bothered by his refusal. "No worries! Hope it heals fast. Thanks again."

With a wave and a smile, she's turning to rejoin her friend while Jisung lets out a breath. He turns to Minho again, except―Minho isn't there.

_Shit._

"Minho?" he calls anxiously, retracing his steps back through the hallway. Shit, what if his gauge broke? _And_ he's under the influence? What if he can’t control himself? _Fuck fuck fuck._ Anxiety swirls in Jisung's chest, making his heart beat fast as he re-enters the kitchen. "Min―oh."

There he stands, next to the drinks, looking up at Jisung in surprise as he swallows the sip he'd just taken.

"Why'd you run off?" Jisung asks as he approaches.

"Thought you were going off with that girl," he says, eyebrows drawn together. "Don't you want your twenty bucks?"

Twenty bucks would be nice, Jisung thinks. But with another nervous glance at Minho's full meter and the memory of that disgusting prick from earlier, it's decidedly _nowhere near_ worth the risk of leaving Minho alone with this much pent-up horniness.

_God, Minho. Jack off every once in a while._

Jisung shakes his head, taking Minho's hand into his and grabbing his cup with the other. He decides Minho has had enough but doesn't want to waste what little liquid is left in there, so he downs it. "Come on, we have to―" He nearly chokes, throat stinging. "Jesus, Minho, is this straight vodka?"

Minho shrugs, looking strangely sheepish.

"Whatever," Jisung dismisses, still grimacing from the taste. "Let's go."

"Where are we going?" Minho asks as they climb the stairs, Jisung's grip on his hand tight to keep him from falling. Jisung doesn't know how to explain that he knows how insanely horny Minho is all the time and that he's about to lock him in a room and make him take care of it, so he simply doesn't say anything.

Minho tugs back on his hand while they head down the hallway, so Jisung stops and gives him a questioning look, the older pointing at the open bathroom they've just passed.

"You want to get that blood off your face?" he asks.

Oh, right; Jisung had nearly forgotten. He supposes a detour can't hurt, especially if he pulls Minho in there with him to keep an eye on him. He'd like to assess the damage, anyway.

"Yeah, good idea," he agrees, slipping in with Minho and closing the door behind them. He flips the light switch and turns to the mirror. There's a trail of blood drying under his nose, a little cut on his lip, a bruise forming across his cheek and nose. He winces. "Oh, gross."

"I dunno, I thought it was kind of hot." Minho giggles when Jisung shoots him a glare, retrieving a dark blue washcloth from Changbin's drawer and turning the faucet on. Minho tests it with his hand, and once he's satisfied with the temperature, soaks the washcloth.

"C'mere," he instructs, patting the marble countertop.

"I can do it myself," Jisung grumbles, although he obeys, hopping onto the counter just to appease Minho. And if there's a small part of him that enjoys the care and attention, that's no one's business but his own.

"Shh, just let me," he says, moving to stand between Jisung's legs as he gently cradles his jaw with one hand and dabs at the blood with the washcloth in the other. Jisung lets his eyes flutter shut, relaxing in Minho's care. "I should have stopped it sooner. I'm sorry."

Jisung peels his eyes open again. "Don't be. You _told_ me not to do it; it's not your fault." Minho hums, still looking a little regretful, so Jisung attempts to lighten the mood. "It was _so_ worth it though, for the record."

He huffs a laugh, quickly apologizing when he dabs at Jisung's nose just a little too hard and makes him cringe in pain. "I'm sure. I'd have drop-kicked the son of a bitch if Changbin hadn't shown up when he did."

Jisung scoffs. "You couldn't hurt a fly. All those muscles are just for show."

 _"Hey."_ Minho punches him in the arm hard enough to make him yelp. _"Some people_ deserve it."

"Ow!" Jisung pouts, rubbing the affronted spot. "You're assaulting a wounded man. That's low."

Minho sticks his tongue out and steps around Jisung to rinse out the cloth in the sink, a smile gracing his features. Jisung's eyes wander to his gauge, still full. _Seriously,_ Minho? Is _anything_ capable of killing his perpetual hard-on? Does he have some sort of medical condition?

Regardless, Jisung is concerned. He runs a hand through his hair and tips his head back in thought, wondering how to explain to Minho that he needs to _get off_ before he goes off his rocker. He may have to expose his weird power, after all, if it means keeping Minho and others safe―but again, would he even believe him?

Minho glances at him, and his gauge jolts again in Jisung's periphery, sending him into a panic. He scrambles off the counter and exits the bathroom, pulling a clueless Minho along with him as he makes a beeline for Changbin's room.

"Jisung, seriously, what's with you?" Minho whines. Jisung ignores him to dig a key out from a nearby plant―hidden to keep people from defiling Changbin's bedroom―and lets himself in, yanking Minho in after him.

"Okay, look," Jisung says, guiding him over to Changbin's bed and shoving Minho down to sit on the edge. Minho stares up at him, dumbfounded, eyes wide and lips parted, his gauge practically spasming. _Fuck._ What if Jisung is too late? "You need to take care of that."

"Of _what?"_

"Of..." Jisung glances down at his crotch. "You need to jack off."

Minho blinks rapidly, like he can't believe what he's hearing. Jisung can't blame him, but hell, what is he _supposed_ to say?

"I'm _sorry?"_

"You just have to trust me, okay?" Jisung starts as he rummages through Changbin's drawer in search of his shitty playboy magazine stash he'd discovered years ago. "I know you've got a lot of pent up... whatever, and I'm not judging. I'm just saying you need to do something about it, because I'm worried about what'll happen if you don't, y'know? Like, what if you turn into―" He bites his lip, not wanting to imply that something like that could ever happen out loud. "Just―trust me."

He finds a magazine, finally, and some lube, and picks up the tissue box from Changbin's dresser, tossing them onto the bed beside Minho.

"You... want me to jack off in Changbin's bed?" Minho says slowly.

"I mean, you can get on the floor or something."

Minho gawks at him, baffled. A beat passes. Then another. Three beats.

"What, um, what about you?"

"I'll just―uh, wait outside," Jisung stammers, heat crawling up his neck as the unwanted visual of him staying in the room while Minho does that crosses his mind.

"But you're hard."

_What?_

"What? No, I'm not."

Minho pointedly glances at his crotch.

_Oh my God, I'm hard._

_Why am I hard?!_

"I don't know how that happened," he blurts. Minho stares at him, speechless, jaw slack.

_Fuck, this is so fucking awkward._

How the fuck did he get _hard?_ Is Jisung just as sexually frustrated as Minho, enough so to get hard to the thought of his best friend getting off? No. No, no, _no._

It's been a weird night. Maybe the power is getting to his head. Maybe it's leftover adrenaline from the fight, or the alcohol. Maybe it's just Jisung's empathetic nature picking up on Minho's rancid horny vibes and running with them. It could be a combination of them all; who knows?

What Jisung _does_ know is that he's disturbed by this new development, and now _he_ might have to go rub one out in the bathroom while Minho takes care of his own problem.

"I'm just gonna..." he starts to leave, but Minho's timid voice stops him in his tracks.

"Jisungie?"

"Yeah?" He winces, dreading Minho prying into his strange behavior and making him more embarrassed than he already is.

"Um..." He fiddles with the tissue box, eyes darting around the room. "Do you wanna just―I don't know..."

Jisung squints in confusion for a moment before realization hits him like a truck, thanks to Minho's flushed cheeks, gnawed-on lip, and refusal to look him in the eye or finish his thought.

"Oh," Jisung breathes.

He wonders if maybe jacking off isn't the solution after all. Maybe it takes another person to dissolve such dangerously pent-up lust. It would make sense, right? And if that's the case, hey, two birds with one stone and all.

 _Wait._ Is he seriously considering this? And why isn't he more hesitant to accept?

Well―it's for Minho. If their positions were reversed, and Minho had this weird power, he's sure he would do the same for him. They'd do anything for each other, and certainly they're close enough for this to not make anything weird.

_Right?_

A friend in need is a friend in need, Jisung supposes. He takes a deep breath.

"Do you... want help?" he asks, stepping back inside and softly shuts the door.

Minho's gaze shoots up to meet his, eyes wide as saucers. He swallows visibly when Jisung clicks the lock shut.

"Um, I just figured, since we're both..." Minho trails off as Jisung steps closer, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "Is this too weird?"

"It doesn't have to be," Jisung says, attempting to assure both himself and Minho as he sits next to him on the bed. "Does it?"

Minho is quick to shake his head, eyes still wide like a horny deer caught in the headlights.

"It's not like we haven't seen each other's dicks before," Minho laughs weakly.

"Yeah, like _once,"_ Jisung snorts. "On accident. Not... like this."

He isn't sure what _like this_ means himself, as nothing has happened yet, and he isn't even sure what to do. He only has a small handful of experience to go off of here, and it was all with girls, _not_ with his guy best friend.

Still, while nervous, he isn't super anxious as he had been in the past with girls. There's no one on earth he's more comfortable with than Minho, after all.

He just hopes that doesn't change after this.

"Like what?" Minho asks softly, voice barely above a whisper as his hand finds Jisung's thigh, sliding inwards and making Jisung's heart hammer in his chest. He meets Minho's eye and finds him gazing at him expectantly, as if waiting for permission, a stark contrast to the way his gauge is going goddamn haywire. "Like this?"

Minho must be _really_ sexually frustrated if his guy best friend gets him going like that.

Jisung nods, giving Minho permission to touch the steadily-growing bulge in his pants, breath hitching when his hand brushes over it.

"H-Have you ever, um..." Jisung swallows while Minho feels him up, trailing off.

"A couple of times," Minho says, ears red. "But, uh, never past... third base."

"Oh." Jisung is surprised, but he feels a rush of relief at that, knowing Minho isn't some secret sex god that he's going to look like a dumb blushing virgin in front of. They're on a level playing field, at least. "Me too."

"I know, Jisung." Minho gives him a sly smile. "You'd never shut up about it if you had."

"That's not—okay, maybe it is true."

Minho chuckles, his hand still pressing timid touches into Jisung’s dick. Jisung holds his breath, struggling to not buck up into his hand.

His face burns with the force of the _sun_ when Minho's fingers trail up to the button of his jeans. "Can I?"

Jisung nods quickly before he can think too hard about what's happening, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth and wincing at the sharp pain the action brings. Minho carefully unfastens and unzips his jeans, and once Jisung has shimmied out of them enough to provide access to his dick, Minho is tentatively cupping him through his underwear.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" he asks.

Jisung's mouth opens and closes uselessly. _Is_ he okay with this? His first instinct is to blurt out a _yes;_ strangely enough, he's not all that uncomfortable with the situation―and, well, they've already come this far. He isn't even sure if Minho can get him off or vice versa, but he trusts him and knows that they'll stop in an instant if the other wants him to, full gauge or not.

Jisung isn't gay, at least he doesn't think so. He isn't repulsed by the thought or anything that's happening, which must say something. He just always figured that if he liked boys he'd have figured it out by now.

He doesn't know. All he knows is that shit is _confusing,_ and that the feeling of someone else's hands on him is unmatched. Jisung doesn't feel anywhere near this much excitement when he's just getting off by himself―butterflies in his stomach, cock twitching sporadically under Minho's gentle touch.

So yeah, he's okay with it.

He nods. "Are you?"

"More than okay," Minho replies, and before Jisung has time to contemplate it, he's slipping his hand under the waistband of his briefs and wrapping his fingers around Jisung's cock, startling a gasp out of him. He pulls it out from the confines of his underwear and stares unabashedly, making Jisung's stomach do somersaults. He hides his face in his hands with an embarrassed groan that turns into a whimper when Minho starts stroking him again.

"What?" Minho asks, tilting his head as Jisung peers at him through his fingers. "You don't want me to look?"

"It's embarrassing," he mumbles, though Minho looking him in the eye while he touches him makes him feel ten times warmer.

"C'mere," Minho says, scooting up on the bed and crawling behind Jisung to lean against the headboard, manhandling Jisung into his lap and making him squeak in embarrassment. He doesn't turn him around though, instead pulling his back to his chest like they often cuddle while watching movies―except far less innocent as Minho is reaching around him to pump his hard dick, whispering in his ear. "Better?"

Jisung squirms, head spinning and skin on fire with the feeling of one of Minho's arms held firmly around his waist, the other working his cock, and his hot breath on the back of his neck.

"Fuck," he responds, fisting the sheets and trying not to desperately thrust into Minho's hand, wishing he'd squeeze him harder, tighter, faster. He hasn't felt this turned on in a _while._ As before, he figures he can blame it on the strange ass night he's had, and maybe a bit on how small he feels between Minho's legs, grip tight on his waist.

Fuck, _Minho._ What the hell is Jisung doing? This was supposed to be about _Minho_ getting off so he didn't do something stupid and reckless, not about Jisung getting off because he randomly got hard. He wraps his fingers around Minho's wrist, the older immediately freezing his motions.

"Jisung?" Minho questions as Jisung removes his hand and spins around in his lap to face him. Minho's cheeks and ears are a rosy red, dark eyes big as he looks up at Jisung awkwardly straddling his lap.

"This was supposed to be about you," Jisung murmurs, fingers tugging timidly at Minho's belt and trying not to let his eyes linger on the bulge below it.

"But _why?"_ Minho questions. "Where'd this come from all of a sudden?"

Jisung has no idea how to even begin to explain himself, and he doesn't want to try and think too hard about much of anything right now, so he shakes his head and starts to pull Minho's belt out from under the loops. "Is this okay?" he checks softly. Minho nods, so Jisung moves to unfasten his pants next with clumsy movements, shifting to his knees so Minho has room to slip his pants down his thighs.

"You should take your pants off," Minho states.

"Huh?"

"I-I mean," he stammers, gesturing awkwardly, "it looks uncomfortable."

And, well, it is. The fabric of his tight jeans digs into the sides of his thighs unforgivably, especially in this position. He plops down beside Minho to pull them off, leaving his underwear on. They've seen each other in their underwear plenty of times. How is this any different?

Jisung almost laughs at the thought because it couldn't be any _more_ different. They've never done _anything_ like this together, the closest they've gotten being when Minho sat in Jisung's lap while he was hard yesterday, or maybe the times they've woken up next to each other with morning wood awkwardly prominent or, God forbid, pressed against the other.

He forces the thoughts from his head and focuses on not overheating or dying from embarrassment as he returns to his previous position, straddling Minho and slipping his fingertips under the waistband of his underwear. He glances up at Minho for approval, and he nods quickly, so Jisung pulls his length free.

Minho's head tips back with a soft sigh on the very first stroke, Jisung's insides catching fire as he thumbs the leaking tip and trails the precum down the shaft.

_This is so fucking weird._

What's even weirder is that Jisung doesn't want to stop, his heart pounding against his ribcage as his strokes become rougher and Minho keeps letting out cute little sounds unlike anything Jisung's ever heard from him.

Minho is always taking care of Jisung, whether it's by feeding him, giving him homework answers when he's too lazy to do the work, being attentive to things Jisung himself might not even notice, or just providing his comforting presence when Jisung needs it most. Jisung's heart swells at the notion that he's finally doing something to repay all of Minho's kindness to him, stroking him faster as his quiet moans increase in pitch.

Minho startles him by placing a hand over Jisung's crotch, squeezing him lightly and making Jisung bite back a moan. "Let me..." His hand dips into Jisung's briefs and emerges with his cock, pumping him languidly.

"Shit," Jisung hisses, back arching as he braces himself with a hand on Minho's shoulder. Their eyes meet and Jisung swears he feels his face flush hotter. Minho still looks relatively put-together and collected even as they jerk each other off, but the bright flush high on his cheeks, gasps of pleasure, and meter going crazy in Jisung’s peripheral give him away.

Minho reaches for the lube, pouring a bit in his hand, and Jisung wordlessly holds his out, too, before they return to their tasks. The wet sounds and shaky breaths between him make his head spin.

Jisung feels an itch to fill the silence, the air between them thick with... something. It's not awkward, not uncomfortable, but Minho looking him like that while touching him like _that_ makes him want to bury his head in the sand like an ostrich, never to break the surface again.

(Actually, the ostrich thing is a myth, but he'd still kind of like to bury his head in the sand.)

What can he even _say_ in a situation like this? Should he say anything at all? Would it relieve some of the tension? Fuck, he doesn't know, but before he knows it the corners of his mouth are twitching upwards into a grin as he lets out a breathless laugh. Minho hums questioningly, already giggling himself, tilting his head and slowing his strokes.

"Nothing, just..." Jisung shakes his head. "Just didn't expect this to happen when I said I'd hook up with someone, is all."

Minho's face falls, his movements coming to a stop as he removes his hand from Jisung. "Me either," he whispers. "Should we stop? I don't want you to feel like you―"

"No," Jisung says quickly. "No, I mean―we can if you want to. But I don't want to." _Shit, that sounds desperate._ "I mean, no, I'll be okay either way. But we already came this far, right? Um, d-do you want to stop?"

Minho chews the inside of his cheek, his eyes looking all too innocent considering the circumstances as he peers up at Jisung. "Not really."

"Okay," Jisung breathes. "Well, let's go ahead and finish defiling Changbin's bed."

Minho laughs, his eyes familiar crescents, and the tension bleeds out of Jisung again as he joins him.

This is okay. They'll be fine; of course they will.

"Jisung, can we, um..." Minho trails off, cheeks scarlet as his hands slide down Jisung's bare thighs to his knees, leaving goosebumps to rise in their wake. "I wanna try, uh..." He purses his lips together, visibly flustered.

"Try what?" Jisung prompts gently. "It can't get much weirder, can it?"

It definitely can. But Minho won't suggest anything crazy, right? And even if he does, they can laugh it off and blame the alcohol that probably plays a little more than a small role in how they ended up like this in the first place.

"You can say no," he rushes out. Before Jisung can ask what he's potentially saying no to, Minho's hand are slipping under his knees and pulling him higher up his thighs, until―

Oh.

Jisung realizes what's happening―Minho even stops and gives him time to backtrack if he wants, but he doesn't―and then he's met with the feeling of his dick brushing against Minho's. He sucks in a sharp inhale of air just from the _obscenity_ of the sight before him.

"Oh my God," he groans, squeezing his eyes shut.

"No?" Minho asks apprehensively, moving to grab under Jisung's knees and move him back. "Sorr―"

"No!" Jisung's hands fly to cover his and Minho freezes, blinking in confusion. "I mean, yes. It's just, uh, embarrassing. But it's okay."

"You sure?" Minho asks, hesitant.

"Yeah," he whispers, nodding. Minho looks unconvinced, so Jisung takes the incentive to roll his hips just so, grinding their cocks together lightly. Minho's eyes are blown wide, a full moon compared to earlier's crescents, his fingers digging into Jisung's legs at the feeling. His full lips part and let out a shaky breath, composed demeanor unraveling before Jisung's eyes.

Jisung thinks he's beautiful.

Minho's tongue darts out to wet his lips and then he's reaching between them, curling his fingers around both of their dicks and pulling them flush against one another with tentative strokes. The added visual accompanied by the feeling of Minho's hand on him causes Jisung to ball his hands into fists, a high-pitched whine slipping out of his throat.

Overwhelmed by Minho's eyes boring into him and the feeling and the fact that he's _rubbing his dick against his best friend's,_ _holy shit,_ Jisung lets his head fall forward onto Minho's shoulder, hands clutching the fabric of his shirt while Minho twists his hand over the both of them with lewd sounds. It's a win-lose, being able to hide his face from Minho but putting his mouth just inches from the older's ear as he lets out more whimpers, already close.

"Fuck," Minho sighs, quickly recollecting his dick when it slips from his grasp. "You're so cute, Jisungie." Jisung bites down on his shoulder to muffle the moan that comes after that, and that in turn makes Minho let out a sweet cry that makes his head spin. Minho tries to tighten his hold and pump them harder, but seems to be having a hard time keeping them both in his grasp.

"Jisung," he says softly. Jisung doesn't respond, concentrating on trying to keep from throwing his dignity to the wind and humping Minho's cock in shameless desperation to get off. _"Jisungie,"_ he whines, slowing to a stop.

"W-What?" Jisung asks, hesitantly lifting his head to look him in the eye. Minho stares at him for a moment, red-faced, before he seems to remember his intentions.

"Your fingers are longer," he mumbles, lips puckered in the slightest pout. Jisung glances down as he removes his hand from their lengths.

"Oh," Jisung chokes. "You want me to―okay."

Minho nods, and Jisung tentatively wraps his right hand around them, stomach turning. "Like―like this?" he asks, squeezing a bit and trailing his hand down their lube-slick cocks.

Minho nods again, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. "Harder," he whispers, then flushes. "I-If you want."

Jisung swallows. "Okay." He clasps them tighter, both boys letting out soft moans as he resumes pumping. Minho's fingertips press hard into his thighs as he speeds up, unable to resist rolling his hips into Minho, dignity and heterosexuality be damned. It's just Minho. It's fine.

Actually, it's _more_ than fine; it feels fucking incredible, and Jisung is so close to the peak that even Minho's little sounds are getting to him, his heart stuttering when their gazes meet and Minho's eyes sparkle with adoration (or maybe just horniness).

"Are you close?" Jisung pants, trying his best to reel in the pressure building in his core. He isn't even sure why he wants them to finish at the same time; surely he could just jack Minho off after he comes. It would just be embarrassing to bust first though, he reasons.

Yeah, that must be it.

"Mhm," Minho hums, high and whiny, gazing up at Jisung with so much desperation in his galaxy eyes―Jisung's never seen anything like it. His eyebrows are knit together, cheeks as red as Jisung feels, lower lip dragging between his teeth with a moan he fails to muffle. His eyes flutter shut, long eyelashes fanning over his cheekbones, and throws his head back with a whispered _fuck._

He braces himself once more with a hand on Minho's shoulder, hunching over him and cursing under his breath as he jerks them off hard and fast. "Fuck, fuck, I'm―" His words morph into a moan as he squeezes his eyes shut tightly, stomach fluttering and soul practically ascending as he comes, weakly fucking into his fist. He hears Minho cry out seconds later, hips twitching underneath him and his warm release dripping down Jisung's hands. He can't even find it in him to be grossed out.

Jisung blinks his eyes open blearily, light-headed, and instinctively seeks out Minho's gauge, beyond relieved to see it slowly empty. He looks to Minho next and finds Minho looking back at him, eyes glazed over and breaths heavy. Jisung feels warm all over, suddenly very self-conscious as he comes down from the high of desperately chasing his pleasure. He's quick to remove his hand from their dicks, wincing at the messy mixture of their cum between his fingers.

"Um―" He glances around, but Minho beats him to it, leaning forward and grabbing the tissue box he'd haphazardly tossed at the older earlier and offering it to him. "Thank you," he mumbles shyly, wiping his hands clean, passing Minho a few, and wiping his own dick off before hastily shoving it back in his underwear. He nearly trips over his own feet rushing off the edge of the bed to pull his pants back up his legs, relieved to see Minho fully clothed again when he turns around. Finally, a sense of normalcy has returned to them.

Except for the cum Minho is currently trying to get off of his shirt that Jisung is pretty sure belongs to him―or, at the very least, both of them.

"Shit, uh―" Jisung scratches the back of his head. "Sorry about that."

"It's not your fault," Minho says softly, not looking up. Jisung wishes he could read his tone, or see his face properly, desperate for reassurance.

 _Fuck._ _Please don't let this make things awkward._

"Right." Jisung wrings his hands, unease settling in his stomach. "Wanna steal one of Changbin's shirts? We can tell him you valiantly sacrificed yours to wipe up my blood or something."

Minho giggles, and Jisung feels a wave of relief wash over him at the sound. "You make it sound like you were dying. You barely had a nosebleed."

"I could have died! You never know!" Jisung wails in protest, stepping over to Changbin's dresser to rummage in his top drawer. Yikes, wrong drawer. He moves on to the second. "Any requests?" he asks Minho, perusing Changbin's tee shirts.

"The one with the weird rabbit-pig hybrid," Minho says immediately, like he's been waiting for this question all his life.

"Didn't Seungmin get him this in, like, high school?" Jisung wonders, fishing it out from the drawer anyway. "You're really gonna take the one with the most sentimental value?"

"Yep," he responds, voice suddenly _right_ behind Jisung. He whirls around, met with the sight of a shirtless Minho―something he's seen countless times before, but in this context it feels... different. Like he shouldn't be looking. "My eyes are up here," he says, a catlike smirk on his still-flushed face as he snatches the shirt from Jisung's slack hands.

"Whatever," Jisung grumbles, turning to close the drawer and hide his face, burning with indignance. _Yeah, well, your eyes were on my_ dick _earlier,_ he itches to bite back, but part of him isn't sure if he should bring up what happened at all, so he doesn't. Nor does he plan to, not unless Minho does so first.

Mostly, he just hopes this quells Minho's raging horniness until he manages to get a girlfriend, then they can go back to normal.

Is there any such thing after what happened between them, though? Will Jisung be able to look at Minho the same, after practically humping him, hearing _those_ sounds, his lust-flushed face etched into his mind?

He sure hopes so. The last thing he wants is to lose his best friend over a tipsy, strange, horny meter power-induced romp.

He shouldn't worry too much—though easier said than done, Minho and Jisung are inseparable, and they have been for years. Even if it did make things uncomfortable for a while, they'd be able to bounce back stronger than before.

Everything will be fine.

...Right?

☆彡


	2. Chapter 2

Everything is fine.

Well, Jisung _assumes_ everything is fine; Minho hasn't done or said anything to suggest otherwise, yet.

He'd texted Jisung less than an hour ago, asking if he wanted to go out for lunch. Jisung had refused, partially because he isn't sure what to make of what happened between them last night―though he supposes Minho reaching out to him as normal is a good sign―but mostly because he really just didn't want to leave the comfort of his bed. Minho had called him then, a pout in his voice evident over the phone as he asked to come over. Apparently he'd been sexiled by his roommate at the ungodly hour of 1pm.

So now, Jisung anxiously awaits his arrival, the cartoon playing on his TV doing little to distract him from his thoughts. He pauses it and sighs, running his hands down his face. He may as well get this all out of his system now, so he hopefully has a clearer head when Minho is here.

Right. So they jacked each other off last night. Not just that―they jacked off _against_ each other. _Dicks touching_. Jisung shakes his head furiously, squirming in his bed and squealing in mortification at the renewed embarrassment he feels from Minho seeing him act like that―from seeing _Minho_ act like that.

The image of Minho looking up at him from his perch on the older's lap flashes in his mind: eyes dark and heady with lust, cheeks a violent flush, and the soft sounds he was making― _Jesus,_ the sounds―

Jisung groans, slamming a pillow over his warm face and willing it to swallow him whole so he doesn't have to face his friend after all of that. Still, it's probably best to do it now; if he hadn't invited him over he'd be left to his own thoughts and likely spiral into emotional turmoil worrying about the state of their friendship.

Was it a mistake? Jisung doesn't know. He'd like to think a one-off event like that won't put any strain on their friendship, as strong and long-lasting as it is. In fact, he's fairly certain of it. Things _could_ be awkward, if they make them, but just minutes after finishing last night, things seemed to return to normal.

Minho had made off with Changbin's prized tee shirt, making sure Changbin and Seungmin both saw he was wearing it when they sought them out to explain the fight with that douchebag, intending to, in his words, "ruin their night." (Changbin complained but ultimately let him get away with it, while Seungmin threatened his life.) They left after that, and Minho and Jisung instantly fell back into their usual back-and-forth as Minho walked Jisung to his room. Jisung passed out fairly quickly after falling into bed, trying his best to not worry too much about the fact that Minho's fucking meter had risen. _Again._

Who knows how long Minho has been parading around with a full meter? Maybe he has more control over himself and Jisung has no reason for concern. But last night freaked him out so much, seeing what someone with an unchecked, overflowing meter can turn into. He can't let that happen to Minho no matter what, even if he's nothing like that asshole and the risk of him doing anything like that is laughably low. Jisung doesn't want to take any chances.

He needs to get Minho a girlfriend to satiate his incurable lust. _Goddamn,_ he'd really just hoped that he could just use this power to get _himself_ one, but it looks like he's going to have to wait until he doesn't have Minho to worry about.

Assuming he still _has_ the power... Shit. What if it's gone as soon as it came, and he blew his one chance to pick up girls? He hasn't left his room all day, and he's pretty sure he heard Jeongin leaving when he was half-asleep, so that just leaves...

A knock sounds from the door, startling him, followed by several more. Actually, they just _don't stop._ He stumbles out of bed, steps into some sweatpants, and Minho is _still_ knocking obnoxiously. Don't his knuckles hurt?

"I'm coming!" Jisung snaps. He makes his way to the door, running a hand through his bedhead as he pulls it open. "Jesus. Should've left you to the mercy of the streets."

He takes in the sight of Minho before him, looking particularly soft and cozy in a navy blue hoodie, two iced coffees in hand and grocery bags hanging from his arms. Jisung's eyes flit over to the gauge that's still there, floating ominously above his shoulder, and holds back a sigh of relief.

Wait, why is he _relieved?_ The damn thing is filled to the brim again.

Fucking Minho. Can't he _do_ something about it? Is Jisung going to have to take matters into his own hands _again,_ just so he can sleep at night without the weight of his best friend's horniness on his shoulders?

"You like me too much," Minho sings, thrusting an iced coffee into Jisung's hands as he pushes past him, strolling in like he owns the place and removing his shoes. Jisung huffs, but all transgressions are forgiven when he takes a sip of the iced americano and hums happily.

"What's got you all red?" Minho questions, lightly pinching Jisung's ear between his fingers and wiggling. "I didn't interrupt another R-rated movie, did I?"

"No!" Jisung argues, turning to head towards his room with a protective hand over his ear. He didn't realize he was blushing; he didn't even think that hard about― _nope._ That train of thought has come to a stop, and now is not the time to revisit it. "I'm not," he insists.

Minho hums, sounding unconvinced, but doesn't push further. He flings himself onto Jisung's bed and dumps the contents of the bags on the sheets, sweet and salty snacks alike tumbling out and putting a little more bounce in Jisung's step as he moves to join Minho on the bed.

"I take back what I said," Jisung proclaims, pushing the snacks into a pile between them. "You're an angel. A godsend. My hero. What would I do without you?"

"Stay in bed all day and have no friends," Minho deadpans.

"Damn," Jisung laughs, picking out a lollipop from the pile―one of the good ones, cherry-flavored with the gum in the middle and picked especially for him (Minho doesn't like cherry). "You've got me there." He unwraps it, rolling it over his tongue before shoving it in his mouth. "Though, to be fair, even when we hang out, we don't leave the bed much."

"Well, yeah," Minho laughs, opening a small bag of butter chips with loud crinkling as he reclines back onto Jisung's pillows, legs hitting Jisung's lap. "But at least you have someone to share the bed with." He wiggles his eyebrows, and Jisung wills himself not to get flustered by Minho's usual playful flirting. He usually never has too much of a problem there―it's just that he just can't believe how _shameless_ Minho is, talking like that after all they did. With a freshly full gauge, to boot.

_This guy is insane._

"I don't have much of a choice, do I?" Jisung grumbles. They both know he likes the company, just maybe not so much when he has the ability to tell that his friend is horny and the inability to forget what happened between them the night before.

God, Jisung really needs to stop letting his mind drift back to it. He leans over Minho's legs draped in his lap to retrieve the remote from his nightstand, intending to look for something PG-rated to watch, before he's distracted by the sound of the front door opening and Jeongin entering.

Jeongin rounds the corner after several seconds of shuffling around near the entrance, poking his head in Jisung's open door. "Good afternoon, my two roommates," he greets.

"Hello Innie," Minho coos. "Your _favorite_ roommate brought you some snacks." He brushes half of the pile out from under the shadow of his legs and gives a grand flourish to show them off.

Jisung pouts as Jeongin enters and scans the array of treats before him. "I thought these were for me."

"I never said that."

"You never invade _Jeongin's_ room," Jisung argues. "I think I have more of a right to them by default."

Jeongin taps his chin in thought before his features morph into a sinister grin. "You may have a point. After all, I'm sure I can just buy some snacks of my own with the twenty bucks you owe me."

Jisung feels himself deflate at the reminder of his failure―he'd been _so confident_ that he could land a sloppy handjob _(from a girl)_ if nothing else, but, well, things took a turn― _and_ at the realization that he'll have to fork over the only cash he has on hand.

Minho clicks his tongue, interrupting whatever plea Jisung was formulating for Jeongin to let him keep his money. "This offer was made out of pity," he tells Jeongin. _"You_ actually owe _Jisung_ twenty bucks."

"You're shitting me." Jeongin's smile fades to be replaced by disbelief while Jisung watches in mortified silence. Minho isn't going to _tell_ him, is he? Minho nods, lips pursed in an apologetic smile. Jeongin squints at Jisung, then looks back to Minho. "No, you're lying."

"I'm not," Minho says, holding three fingers up in a scout's pledge. "Swear to God."

"That's not―You don't even―" Jeongin sighs, swatting at his hand with one hand and grabbing a pack of candy with the other. "I don't believe you. Who was it?"

Jisung's heart thumps, dreading what Minho will spill next, but he only shrugs. "Didn't get a good look," he mumbles, crunching a chip. Jisung lets out a breath of relief, grateful for the cover. He _really_ does not want to have to explain all of that to Jeongin, or give up his money―which, technically, he earned. He _did_ kind of hook up with someone, even if that someone was the last person any of them, Jisung included, expected.

Jeongin turns to Jisung expectantly. Jisung shrugs, stretching his arms over his head and playing it cool. "Forgot her name," he lies, doubling over with a yelp when Minho's socked foot slips under his ridden-up shirt to tickle his belly.

Jeongin hums, eyes narrowed with suspicion still. "I feel like you two are scheming."

"We're not!" Jisung gapes. "How dare you! We would never cheat money out of our baby Innie." Jisung leans in to pinch his cheeks only to be batted away.

"Hey, have I ever lied to you before?" Minho demands.

"Yes," Jeongin says.

"When it _mattered?_ "

Jeongin rolls his eyes, shoving his hand into his jacket pocket to dig out his wallet. "Whatever. It's not worth the fuss. Take my money, you sick fucks."

Jeongin forks over a crumpled twenty and snatches up a pack of gummies, sticking his tongue out when Jisung complains, before disappearing to his room to do Jeongin things.

Jisung's tongue lolls out of his mouth as he twirls his shrinking lollipop over it mindlessly. He turns to Minho to speak, attention stolen by the sight of his gauge jolting.

That can't be good.

"Hey, uh..." he begins once he remembers what he meant to say. He'd really just like to leave it be, but he feels inexplicably guilty at the thought of just leaving it at that. "Thanks for... you know."

Minho quirks an eyebrow. "For what? I didn't lie. You technically won the bet."

Jisung feels his face warm. "Well yeah, but..." He scratches his head. "I meant for, y'know, not telling him _how."_

Minho hums, expression blank and indecipherable as he studies the plastic bag in his hands. Jisung waits for him to say something else, but he doesn't, and he finds his gaze drifting to the meter again, heart dropping at what he notices.

There's a _crack_ in Minho's gauge―just barely there, but visible.

Oh fuck. Oh _shit._ This is not good.

That puts him one step closer to breaking, to overflowing, leaking like that asshole at the party and losing control. _Shit._

Jisung has to do something, find Minho some sort of relief, and he has to do it _fast._ He doesn't even care if it has to be him again while he searches for a more permanent solution. He needs to ensure Minho won't go down that path, no matter what.

"Um..." Jisung rubs the back of his neck, eyes on the ceiling as he awkwardly forces out the words, "If you―if you need help again, I can, y'know."

He gnaws on his bottom lip nervously, forcing himself to meet Minho's gaze. Minho blinks back at him, eyes searching but otherwise entirely impassive.

The moment seems to stretch into minutes, Jisung holding his breath. He isn't sure what he expects, what he'd _hoped_ for when he blurted out the offer. Maybe for Minho to make a joke and brush it off in true Minho fashion, as if his gauge isn't practically constantly begging for relief. Maybe he'd shyly accept. Jisung wouldn't mind, really. He doesn't know if it will ever _not_ be a little weird, but all things considered, there are certainly worse ways to get off than his attractive best friend.

"I shouldn't have―" Minho trails off in a hushed tone, gaze downcast. He shakes his head, just barely, crumpling up the now-empty plastic chip bag and dropping it in Jisung's trash can. He removes his legs from Jisung's lap, taking his warmth with them, and draws his knees to his chest. "I wasn't thinking straight. Sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" Jisung forces a chuckle, confused. "I was just saying that, y'know, if―"

"It's not your problem," Minho cuts in.

 _Like hell it isn't._ Jisung can't exactly tell him that he's perhaps the only one who can help him, but he does feel a bit of irritation bubble within at Minho shutting him out _(always shutting him out)_ , especially when _he_ was the one who initiated it in the first place.

"You kind of made it my problem, though?" Jisung's eyebrows are pinched together in frustration, lollipop held loosely in his hand, forgotten. "When you asked if I wanted to―"

"I know," Minho snaps. "I know what I did. I'm sorry."

"I don't know why you're apologizing," Jisung says. "I'm not upset."

"Just forget it," Minho grumbles, rolling over and fully lying on Jisung's pillows now, his pig plushie held close to his chest as he stares blankly at the TV. "Can you pick something?"

"Whatever," Jisung grumbles, retrieving the abandoned remote and picking the first cartoon the cursor lands on. He just wants to help, why can't Minho see that? Stupid horny bastard.

Jisung folds his arms and leans back against the wall, pouting and willing frustrated tears away. He sends one more spiteful glance to Minho.

_Drown in lust, dumbass._

☆彡

Things are tense after that.

They didn't cuddle like they usually would, Jisung instead had sulked a good distance away as they ate snacks and watched cartoons in relative silence until Minho's roommate notified him that he was allowed to come back.

It's been a few days since then. There have definitely been times in Minho and Jisung's friendship where they've gone a few days without talking to each other. It hasn't ever really been a big deal―mostly happening when Jisung would be in a _mood_ and need space, or they were just busy, or the one time he took something Minho had said the wrong way and brooded for a day or two before Minho picked up on it and addressed it―but never anything like this, so much uncertainty and tense air surrounding them.

Admittedly, Jisung is a little pissed! It's not like he woke up the day of the party and thought _I'm gonna defile my best friend and ruin our friendship tonight_. No, there hadn't been quite that much thought put into it, and maybe that was the problem; he didn't think enough about the consequences of all of this before jumping into something that put their friendship at jeopardy. But, in the end, that was _Minho's_ idea after all. _Minho_ is the one who had suggested it, had brushed him off when he offered to help again, had started giving him the cold shoulder.

All Jisung wanted was to help. He sacrificed his chastity for the cause, for fuck's sake. (Not that he cares about that. But what if he did? Minho could stand to be a bit more appreciative, is all he's saying.)

And now they're here. Jisung is relieved that Minho chose to still sit next to him in their shared class, at least, but their air between them is thick with unease―or maybe it's just in Jisung's head. He never knows what the hell Minho is thinking.

...Unless it comes to how fucking _horny_ he is, anyway. His meter is still stubbornly full.

Jisung hardly processes a bit of the words he copies down in his notebook from the PowerPoint displayed on the projector, too preoccupied with thoughts and worries plaguing his mind, plans for what to say to Minho, wondering if he even _should_ say anything.

What's he supposed to say anyway? _'Hey, are you mad we touched dicks?'_ Why is he so bothered by it? Why would he suggest it if he was going to be weird? Maybe it was a drunken mistake after all, but either way Jisung really wants them to move past it already.

He's working up the nerve to say something as they filter out of the classroom at the end of the lecture, but he's interrupted by the sight of their friends with normal-level horny meters _(thank God)_ waiting for them in the hallway.

"Are you stalking us?" Minho greets them.

"That is the exact opposite of what I want out of life," Seungmin returns.

"And yet here you are."

Seungmin rolls his eyes with a hint of a smile, nudging Changbin with his elbow where he stands next to him. "I had no say. Changbin dragged me here."

"Hey! Your face is looking better," Changbin addresses Jisung, who sheepishly brushes a finger over his fading bruise.

"Yeah. Wish I could say the same for you."

Changbin gapes while the other two snicker at his expense. "Okay, I take it back! Sheesh, I come bearing gifts, and this is the thanks I get?"

"Gifts?" Minho and Jisung parrot in perfect unison. Jisung glances at him, laughter bubbling up in his chest, but Minho doesn't look back. 

Okay, ouch.

Changbin flourishes a set of what looks to be brightly-colored tickets, effectively distracting him. "Ta-da!"

Jisung leans in, squinting at the image of a Ferris wheel printed on them. "The fair? Weren't you guys going on a double date or something?"

"That was the plan." Changbin rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. "But now they won't answer my texts, and these expire after today, so..."

"Pity," Seungmin drones. Jisung remembers Changbin roping him into this several weeks ago and how reluctant he'd been―Seungmin has never had much interest in romance from what Jisung can tell, actually―but eventually caved to appease his friend.

"Shut up," Changbin snaps jokingly. "Anyway, you guys down?"

"To be your rebounds?" Minho scoffs, plucking a ticket from his hand anyway. "Sure, why not."

Well, Jisung isn't going to let the fact that Minho is going dissuade him. He loves fairs, and hell, maybe the fun atmosphere and time with friends will help Minho loosen up so they can go back to normal.

"I'm in," Jisung agrees, swiping the next ticket.

"I don't think I have a choice," Seungmin says, taking the second to last one.

"Aww, c'mon," Jisung coos, "you love us."

Seungmin scrunches his nose cutely in mock disgust, pretending to punch Jisung, who dramatically sways backwards as if he'd been hit. Changbin giggles at the display before holding his hand out.

"Alright, now give the tickets back," he says. "I don't trust you fuckers not to lose them. Especially Jisung."

"So our dramatic show of solidarity meant nothing to you?" Jisung pouts, slapping his ticket into Changbin's waiting palm. His hand brushes against Minho's as he does the same, making Jisung jerk his hand away. He feels his face burn when Changbin and Seungmin both give him a brief curious look.

"Nope," Changbin answers, pocketing the tickets.

"I've got to go turn something in real quick," Minho announces. "What time are we leaving?"

"Does six work?" Changbin asks, looking around for their approval. When they all nod in affirmation, he says, "Okay. See you at six."

The three of them send Minho off with a wave and start towards the opposite exit, Changbin studying Jisung's face. He feels the questions coming and has _no idea_ how to explain any of this, anxiety prickling under his skin.

"Is everything okay?" Changbin asks. "Things seem a little..."

"Tense," Seungmin finishes for him. "Did something happen?"

"No," Jisung lies. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Well, kind of. We had a bit of a... Let's just say we had a disagreement, and he's been weird for a few days."

"He's always weird," Seungmin comments.

"Well, yeah. But I meant, like, I dunno... cold."

"To _you?_ " Changbin scoffs. "That's hard to believe. Did you insult his cats or something?"

"What?" Jisung gasps, appalled. "I would never! They're perfect angels―Wait, what do you mean it's 'hard to believe?'"

Changbin shrugs. "Just that it's hard to imagine him, like, being upset with you. You're his _widdle baby Jisungie,"_ he coos, reaching over to pinch Jisung's cheek while Seungmin takes it upon himself to pinch the other.

"Stop," Jisung cries, smacking their hands away. "I am not. Plus, all friends fight sometimes. Right?"

"I mean, I guess it makes sense with as much time as you spend together that you'd piss each other off eventually," Seungmin muses.

"Did... Did he seem pissed off?" Jisung worries. If anything, he feels like _he's_ the one _should_ feel pissed about the whole thing, but the thought of Minho being mad at him still makes his heart sink.

"I don't know," Seungmin says. "He's hard to read."

"Tell me about it," Jisung mumbles.

"Yeah, I dunno. It just felt a little tense," Changbin adds. "This isn't about what happened at the party, is it?"

 _Shit._ Technically, he's right, but not for the reason he might think. If only poor Changbin knew that the defilement of his bed is what landed them in this situation today...

"I dunno. Maybe." Jisung brushes it off, not wanting them to pry any further. "I'm just hoping it settles down and after tonight we can be back to normal again."

"Maybe you should talk to him before we go," Changbin suggests. "Clear the air."

"Maybe," Jisung sighs, though he knows he won't. Trying to talk to Minho is what got them here, and the last thing he wants is to make it worse. It looks like the best he can hope for is them putting it behind them, forgetting it ever happened, and going back to their effortless friendship from before.

It's only been a few days, but Jisung misses him.

By the end of the night, he'll have his best friend back.

☆彡

Minho is the last to arrive to meet up at Changbin's place, dragging his feet with hair a little mussed and eyelids heavy with sleep (and a full meter). He's always so cute like this, Jisung thinks, his body taking its sweet time to fully awaken even after the shortest of cat naps. Jisung feels a little pang at the thought of all the naps they've taken together, of how they'd often do so when they had plans with friends later, before he realizes he's being overdramatic.

It's just been a few days of awkwardness. They'll move past it, and Jisung can cuddle him to sleep all he wants. Maybe tonight, even, if things go well.

"Did you have a good nap?" Jisung asks fondly, patting his hair down. Minho only hums, wordlessly climbing into the back of Changbin's sleek black truck and scooting to the other end, behind the driver's seat. Changbin and Seungmin both send Jisung a sympathetic look before taking their seats in the front and Jisung heaves himself up to sit behind Seungmin with a sigh.

It's fine. Minho is still in sleepyhead mode. He doesn't much like talking when he's just woken up; in fact, he talks _more_ when he's dead asleep. He'll wake up, they'll all have fun, it'll be fine.

Or so he thought.

Minho isn't ignoring his existence entirely, at least, but he's definitely keeping him at arm's length. He bought Jisung a corndog and gave him the rest of his soda when Changbin elected to share his with Seungmin, but Jisung feels a certain emptiness at his side where Minho would normally stand, arms brushing against his, occasionally grabbing his hand, whispering in his ear, falling all over each other with giggles when they'd crack a stupid joke. His side feels cold without Minho's presence.

Metaphorically speaking, anyway. It's actually a pretty warm evening, warm enough that Jisung feels hot enough from all the crowds and walking around they've done so far to strip out of his hoodie and tie it across his waist after using the bathroom and washing his hands. He takes a moment to shamelessly admire his muscles in his sleeveless shirt as he runs a hand through his hair (he worked hard on them!), freezing when Minho rounds the corner behind him and makes eye contact in the mirror.

_This tension is fucking miserable._

"Hey," Jisung starts as Minho approaches the sink, unsure how he's going to continue. All thoughts are drained from his head when he clocks Minho's gauge, which is _twitching_ as he begins washing his hands. Jesus, couldn't he jack off in the stall or something if he's that horny?

"Hi," Minho says, flicking water off of his hands and turning to face Jisung questioningly while he dries them. Right, Jisung said something. He had nearly forgotten with how violently Minho's gauge is knocking around.

"Uh..." Jisung clears his throat. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Minho answers like it should be obvious. He stays rooted there for a moment, mouth opening hesitantly before snapping shut again, and then he's stepping right past Jisung and exiting the restroom.

Well, it looks like he _almost_ told Jisung what the fuck is going on in his head. That has to count for something, right? Maybe they're getting somewhere. But he still avoids him like the repellent end of a magnet when they rejoin their friends, whereas they're normally stuck like glue. It's really starting to get to Jisung.

"No luck?" Seungmin asks in a low voice, Changbin and Minho walking shoulder-to-shoulder a few feet ahead of them.

Jisung gives a defeated shrug. He kind of just wants to go home at this point, but if he does that, he'll do nothing but wallow in his head. Fair games are a fun alternative, he reasons. Even if Minho's giving him the cold shoulder, he can have fun with his other friends.

He yells and high-fives Seungmin when he manages to hit the target on the dunk tank, his years of high school baseball paying off when he sends the poor soul in already soaking clothes plunging into the water. Jisung hopes he's getting paid well, at least.

Ring toss is next, and Changbin surprises them all with a flawless score and picks out a big golden retriever plush that he shoves into the hands of a startled Seungmin. Seungmin does fairly well himself, winning a smaller pink bunny which he happily hands off to Changbin in return. Minho only lands enough to get a consolation prize of one of those red sticky hand things. Jisung feels a surge of satisfaction when he's able to easily beat Minho's score and allowed to pick out something a little nicer (though Minho certainly seems to enjoy slapping Seungmin with his new toy), but despite the bit of spite in him, he wants to extend an olive branch.

"I think I have enough plushies," Jisung remarks casually―blatantly _lies,_ because how could anyone have enough plushies?―and turns to Minho, pointing at an orange-and-white cat plush hanging from the prize rack that reminds him of one of Minho's own. "This one looks kind of like Soonie, doesn't it?"

"I guess," is his half-hearted response as he studies it. "If the eyes were a little lighter."

"You want it?" Jisung asks hopefully.

"No, that's okay," Minho says simply, seemingly satisfied enough with his own meager prize. Jisung is so _goddamn frustrated._ He thought it would only take an hour or so of being at the fair for them to fall back into their usual companionship, but it somehow only feels like it's gotten _worse._

"Okay," he sighs. Minho's attention is grabbed by Changbin yelling something about one of those dumb strength-testing games with the mallet and the bell. Jisung ends up getting the Soonie-esque plush anyway. Maybe Minho will change his mind, and if not―well, Jisung likes Soonie, too.

He collects his prize and turns just in time to see Changbin get a rather impressive score on the "high striker," nearing the top. The contraption actually kind of reminds Jisung of these meters he started seeing, and speaking of which―Seungmin's is acting funny.

 _Has it been twitching like that all day?_ He wonders, watching it steadily rise as he claps for Changbin, whose is fairly low―maybe around 25 percent. Jisung realizes he hasn't been paying much attention to anyone but Minho's again, too concerned about his friend to even put his powers to use in the way he figures the cosmos intended after his wish.

Oh well. No matter how weirdly standoffish Minho is being, he's still Jisung's best friend, and Jisung is going to keep watching over him no matter what. He won't let him push him away. He's like his... horny guardian angel, or something. Maybe _this_ is why he was given this insane power, after all.

Jisung sighs but wears a small smile anyway, watching fondly as Minho's loud laughter carries when he tries his hand at the game and nearly misses the lever he's meant to hit entirely. 

He'll come around, Jisung is sure.

Once they've had their fill of games, Changbin and Seungmin insist on riding the Ferris wheel, pretty and sparkling in the night sky, and _imposingly_ tall.

"Yeah, good luck getting Minho on that," Jisung laughs. "We'll sit this one out. Right?"

"C'mon," Changbin whines, jabbing Minho in the side with his elbow. "It's an essential fair activity! Don't be losers."

"They can't help it," Seungmin jeers. "It's in their blood."

Minho shoots him a glare and Jisung decides to butt in. "Minho's afraid of hei―"

"I'll go," Minho interrupts, voice small as he stares up at the imposing ride. "Only if Binnie buys me a funnel cake. If I don't barf."

"There we go!" Changbin claps a hand on his back. "You've got yourself a deal."

Jisung worries his lip while they wait in line to be loaded onto the ride, wondering how awkward it'll be if he sits with Minho, if he should try to talk to him, if Minho actually _will_ barf on him or vice versa (Jisung isn't fond of heights either, but Minho has it a little worse). Then when they reach the front, Minho grabs ahold of Seungmin's arm.

"I wanna go with Seungminnie," Minho announces. 

Really? Minho's going to choose _Seungmin,_ his pretend sworn enemy over him?

"Me?" Seungmin looks at him with disgust, and Changbin glances at Jisung with an expression of bewilderment and pinched eyebrows before looking back at Minho.

"Yeah, no," Changbin intervenes, attempting to wrestle Seungmin out of Minho's grip, "this is getting weird."

"Why?" Minho whines, not letting up. "If I vomit on anyone, I want it to be someone special."

"Then go with Jisung!" Changbin shouts, successfully manhandling Seungmin out of Minho's grip and wrapping his arms around him protectively. Jisung barely registers Seungmin's meter rising, piquing curiosity in the back of his mind, but he can't dwell on it with the way Minho finally looks at him with an exaggerated pout.

"Fine," he grumbles.

"Scaredy-cats gotta stick together," Jisung smiles, linking his arm with Minho's. Minho only peers up at the Ferris wheel anxiously, but at least he doesn't pull away.

"Are you guys ready, or..." the employee running the ride interrupts their squabble, thinly-veiled annoyance on her pretty features. Changbin releases Seungmin, laughing sheepishly.

"I am so sorry," Seungmin says as he passes to board the ride, receiving a forced smile in return. Jisung can't blame her; college guys are probably the worst of the worst fair attendees she has to deal with.

He and Minho wait in silence for their cart to come around, Minho's steps unsure when they board.

"Scared?" Jisung asks, laughing softly when the wheel starting to move makes Minho jolt in his seat.

"No," he lies. He looks out the side window, apparently regretting it as he jerks his head away even though they've just barely risen enough to accommodate the next passengers to board, and stares at his lap, hands fidgeting. "The things I do for sweets..."

"No one forced you to come on here, you big baby," Jisung teases.

"I know," Minho sighs, wringing his hands, "but it's part of the experience, right?"

Jisung shrugs. "It's not too late, you know. We can always just jump out or scream until they bring us back down."

Minho huffs out a laugh at that, and Jisung feels a sense of accomplishment swell in his chest, making him grin. "That's okay," Minho says, gaze still avoiding the window. "I'll live. I think."

Jisung boldly slips his hand between Minho's own fidgeting ones, separating one to intertwine their fingers and squeeze, giving him a reassuring smile. Minho blinks up at him, then back at their entwined hands, and squeezes back with a faint smile.

Jisung feels every atom of his being relax, relief washing over him like a warm bath after a long day as he snuggles up closer to Minho, so happy he could just kiss him.

...What?

Where did that come from?

To be fair, emotions are running high (for Jisung, at least), and there's certainly no shortage of crazy hormones in this cart. It's just a random, spur-of-the-moment impulsive thought that he quickly shakes off right as Minho starts to speak.

"Sorry," he says. _Ah. Here we go._

"For...?" Jisung dips his head down to try and catch Minho's eye, but he avoids his gaze.

"For being kind of a dick," he murmurs.

And that's enough for Jisung. Minho could have punched him in the face and stolen his lunch (he usually makes it or pays for it anyway, so really, it's his right) and that would have been enough for Jisung to forgive him, clear the air and go back to being best friends.

Still, he wants to know _why,_ so he can avoid making the same mistake in the future.

"Did I do something wrong?" Jisung asks, carefully.

Minho glances up at him with wide eyes, reflecting the colorful blinking lights of the Ferris wheel. "No. No, you didn't do anything."

"Then what happened?" Jisung pouts, resting his head on Minho's shoulder in an attempt to comfort them both, absently running his thumb over Minho's knuckles. "Unless it's something personal, then, like, you don't have to say, or..." He bites his lip to keep quiet, hoping he isn't prying _too_ much.

"No, just, um..." Jisung hears him swallow. "I dunno. After what happened at the party..." Jisung freezes momentarily, wondering if he should be all over Minho like this while they discuss what happened. He realizes he doesn't really care though, isn't as bothered by it as he perhaps should be. He resumes lightly stroking Minho's hand with his thumb, making a sound to encourage him to continue.

"I thought we might need some space," Minho finishes.

"You showed up to my dorm the next day," Jisung points out, chuckling.

"Yeah, I didn't think it through," he laughs weakly. "And then you... offered to do it again, but I could tell you regretted it, and I didn't wanna make things any weirder, but I ended up doing it anyway. Sorry."

Regretted it? Jisung had been anxious about their friendship, sure, and felt a little awkward the day after, but he wouldn't say he _regretted_ it. After overthinking way too much, he's come to the conclusion that it's really _no big deal._ Water under the bridge. Hell, he'd already come to terms with the fact that he'd easily do it again if needed.

Minho has always been pretty good at reading Jisung, but maybe he's been overthinking all of this just as much as Jisung has if he reached that conclusion.

"I forgive you," Jisung says, giving his hand a squeeze. "And... I'm sorry for making you think I regretted it. I mean, it was a little weird at first, but it's not a big deal to me. It doesn't change anything, or make things weird between us unless we make it, right?"

Minho blinks at him, lips parted in bewilderment. "Uh, right."

"So saying I regret it would be like saying it was a mistake, or ruined our friendship, or something." Jisung shrugs. "It was just a thing that happened. No biggie."

 _Also I could see how horny you were and I was just really worried about you and prevented you from potentially doing something stupid, so if anything, I'm glad it happened,_ he doesn't say.

Several beats pass, nothing but distant music and the mechanical creaking of the wheel to be heard.

"Wow, that's really mature of you," Minho murmurs. "Color me impressed."

"Right?" Jisung beams, proud. "So now that we've established that we can be adults about this, are you done being weird?"

Minho smiles at him, the soft blur of lights in his eyes as they scrunch into crescents making Jisung feel warm. "Yeah."

Jisung realizes with a stutter of his heart how close their faces are, bodies pressed against each other, hands entwined, and blurts out the first thing that comes to mind, desperate to fill the silence: "Are we about to kiss right now?"

He puckers his lips exaggeratedly, lunging towards Minho who yells and jerks away. The carriage rocks with the commotion, making them both scream and grab onto each other for dear life. Changbin yells something unintelligible from the next carriage over, and they both burst into a fit of giggles, Jisung's forehead resting on Minho's shoulder as it shakes with laughter.

Jisung feels floaty―and maybe it has a little something to do with feeling a little lightheaded from being suspended who knows how many feet in the air, but mostly from how at peace he feels now compared to the past few days of constant anxiety, happy to be reconciled and laughing with Minho.

He lifts his head and feels Minho's grip on his shirt loosen as the carriage stops rocking, belatedly realizing that his fingers are dug firmly into Minho's thigh, reminiscent of how Minho's had dug into the flesh of Jisung's thighs just days ago―

Jisung loosens his grip and offers a sheepish smile, but he's apparently too late.

_Crack._

Fuck.

It must have jogged Minho's memory too, if the way his gauge goes crazy and cracks is anything to go by. His face doesn't give anything away; he only smiles fondly at Jisung while the latter tries not to let his panic show.

He needs to get Minho out of here. They could go to the bathroom, and―ugh, gross. No way is he going to try and make Minho jack off in those nasty stalls. Man, this is a _really_ inconvenient place to be stupidly horny!

"You okay?" Minho asks, tilting his head, brows furrowed in concern.

"Are _you_ okay?!" Jisung demands before quickly backtracking. "I-I mean, with the height and stuff."

"Uh, yeah. Mostly." Minho holds out his hand and observes it as it trembles slightly.

Jisung takes it into his own and gives a comforting squeeze. "Almost done."

 _And then I'm getting you the fuck out of here,_ he adds mentally, casting a wary glance towards the cracked gauge.

The end of the ride can't come soon enough, but they make it not long after, the carriage descending at a torturously slow pace. Jisung tries to usher Minho forward on his shaky legs as quickly but gently as he can, holding his hand tight as they walk down the exit ramp, Soonie plush held in the other.

Changbin and Seungmin are already standing at the end of it, waiting, not even trying to conceal their elation at the sight of Jisung and Minho holding hands. "Did you kiss and make up?" Changbin asks as they approach.

"Uh, yeah," Jisung says hurriedly, not really processing the words. "Hey, can I have your keys? I think I left my wallet in your car." He pats his pockets for show, pretending to be concerned about something other than his godforsaken horny friend.

"Oh, okay," Changbin agrees easily, fishing the keys out of his pocket and dropping them in Jisung's open palm. "We're gonna go on some more rides."

"Text the group chat if you can't find us," Seungmin adds.

"Got it," Jisung says, already dragging Minho away. "Thanks."

"Sheesh, what's got you so high-strung?" Minho asks, stumbling behind as they weave through the crowd. "Can I catch my breath first?"

"You rode a Ferris wheel, not ran a marathon," Jisung jokes nervously, though he slows his pace anyway.

"I know, but― _shit."_ Jisung turns just in time to see Minho trip over the wheel of a stroller, colliding with Jisung and nearly knocking _him_ over. Jisung stands his ground though, steadying Minho with hands on his waist as Minho's come to rest on Jisung's upper arms.

"You good?" Jisung asks, although his gauge going bonkers tells him that _no,_ he is not. Minho blinks, nods quickly, and turns to the mother pushing the stroller to offer an apology. "Need me to carry you?" Jisung asks.

"Pff. Like you could."

"Wanna bet?" Jisung grins, allowing himself to be distracted briefly to prove himself. He squats down to grab Minho under his back and knees, hoisting him up into his arms bridal style. It's far from easy, and he's sure he couldn't carry him more than a few steps let alone to the parking lot, but Minho doesn't have to know that.

He yelps as he's lifted into Jisung's arms, and maybe it wasn't the best idea Jisung's had all night because it seems to make matters with his meter even _worse_ somehow.

"Put me down, oh my God, I'm gonna accidentally kick some kid in the face―"

Jisung laughs, relenting as he stands Minho back up, but doesn't allow himself to be distracted from his task for too long. He grabs Minho's hand again and pushes towards the exit.

"What'd you say you left in here?" Minho asks as Jisung unlocks Changbin's truck and contemplates how to go about this. "Your wallet? Why do you need it? All you do is freeload anyw―"

"Do you want my help again?" Jisung asks, a sense of urgency in his tone.

Minho stares blankly back at him. "Huh?"

"Do you―" Jisung huffs when he sees a family across the parking lot, not wanting to be overheard. He opens the door and climbs into the back seat, pulling a very confused Minho behind him. He drops Soonie Jr. in the passenger seat. "Do you wanna get off? Together?"

Minho's meter seems to answer for him, but physically he only gapes at Jisung, wide-eyed. _"Huh?"_

"Or I can leave," Jisung says. "You can do it yourself if you want. I just figured, y'know, relieve some tension and stuff..."

He nearly winces at how ridiculous the words sound coming out of his mouth, but it's not exactly like he can tell Minho about his concerns of him turning into a sexual predator based on a manifestation of how _horny he is,_ either.

"Um." Minho blinks several times, fingers toying with the hem of his thin purple sweater, and wets his lips. Maybe Jisung shouldn't have offered again after all, after where it got them last time―but he likes to think they've cleared that up well and that even if Minho refuses it won't be weird again.

"W-Well..." Minho forces himself to meet Jisung's eye. "It's not weird unless we make it weird, right?" he repeats Jisung's words from earlier.

Jisung lets out a breath of relief and nods before the reality of the situation settles in, anxiety and maybe a little something akin to arousal sparking in the pit of his stomach. Surely it's just the memory of getting off that's rousing him, and not...

Well, Jisung isn't gay, so that must be it. Unless―

"So can I suck your dick?"

What.

"My―" Jisung squeaks as he gawks at him, face on fire at the unexpected question. He'd figured he'd just give Minho a helping hand, if anything, not do _that._ "Suck my―You want to―to _what?"_

"Is that too much?" Minho frets, eyes wide with worry. "Never mind. We don't have to do that, or anything at all―"

"No, um..." Jisung interrupts. Strangely, he isn't put off by the thought, just shocked beyond belief that Minho _wants_ that. Maybe jacking off together wasn't enough? Maybe this will _satiate_ him more somehow? 

Besides, they already crossed a line and established that everything was fine. Hell, why not suck each other's dicks while they're at it? It's just barely a step up from what they've already done.

"You―You can," he manages.

"I can?" Minho's voice is quiet in the stifling silence of Changbin's truck. "Or do you _want_ me to?"

Jisung blinks at him for a moment, processing the question. The distant lights of the fair and streetlights come together to filter through the windows, illuminating half of Minho's pretty face and casting shadows over the other as he patiently waits for an answer.

Jisung feels a pang in his chest. Even with a full, cracked gauge, Minho is willing to pass up a chance to get off if Jisung isn't one hundred percent on board with it. He's always putting Jisung's comfort first, treating him so much better than he could have ever possibly deserved. Just as he thought the night of the party: it's the least Jisung can do to return the favor somehow.

And anyway, that aside... it's not like he's opposed to it. His eyes flit down to Minho's full lips, glinting ever so slightly in the dark, and feels himself twitch at the thought of them going down on him. He'd tried to push thoughts like that away ever since they fooled around just a few days ago, but now that he _lets_ himself think about it...

Jisung has only gotten blown twice in his life―both by girls, of course. One of them was a nice enough experience, he supposes. He'd nearly choked her by involuntarily bucking his hips, and she'd nearly bitten his dick off in response (not really, but the accidental addition of teeth was painful). The other time he was too drunk to even remember the girl's face properly, let alone the blowjob.

He's never done anything like that with a guy, but as many confusing thoughts as it evokes in him (he'll just have to deal with those later), Jisung finds himself realizing that yeah, he is on board. He _does_ want this, and there's no point in lying to himself or to Minho, especially now that they've come this far.

Jisung catches himself staring at Minho's lips and quickly averts his gaze, looking into Minho's hesitant eyes and nodding. "Yeah," he says, "I do."

"Okay." Minho gives him a gentle little smile, a comical contrast to his quivering meter, and inches closer. Jisung's stomach turns in anticipation as he wills the erratic beating of his heart to calm before Minho hears it in the quiet of the backseat of poor Changbin's truck.

"How many of Changbin's belongings are we gonna defile?" Jisung jokes, already nearing breathless from a tentative hand on his thigh.

"I still haven't given his shirt back," Minho says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. "We could taint that next."

Whether he's joking or not, the implications of a _next time_ make Jisung's heart race faster. Are they really going to keep doing these things until he manages to get Minho a girlfriend? He's not sure how he feels about it, but it's not an _awful_ thought.

Perhaps he should ponder that later, when Minho's hand isn't inching towards his dick.

"Can I?" Minho asks softly, his hand merely brushing over Jisung's growing bulge making him suppress a shudder.

"Oh, yeah, shit, l-let me, um―" Jisung stammers, fumbling his way out of his belt. He's sure his nerves are about as wild as Minho's untamable gauge as he unzips his jeans and, after a coaxing gesture from Minho, lifts off the seat enough to shimmy them down his thighs.

Minho is quick to slip a finger under the waistband of his underwear, but his confidence seems to end there as he stalls.

"I've only done this once before," he admits quietly. Jisung's eyebrows shoot up. Minho has _sucked a dick_ before? Or maybe he just meant oral in general. Yeah, that must be it―or, at least, Jisung hopes so. 

He feels a twinge of resentment at the thought of Minho being close enough to some other guy to platonically suck him off and not tell Jisung about it. What if it's someone he _knows?_

He'll ask later. Maybe. Probably not.

"I can only remember one of the two times I have," Jisung laughs in an attempt to ease his apparent nerves, "so we're even."

Minho smiles at that, his right hand joining his left to slide Jisung's underwear out of the way with his assistance.

And here Jisung is, with his dick out in the backseat of his friend's truck, his best friend's hand steadily rubbing his cock to full hardness while he lets out shaky breaths. He's certainly had better ideas, but worse ones, too.

He peers out of the window anxiously at a couple in the distance and prays to whatever entity out there that no one approaches the truck or―God forbid―Changbin and Seungmin come looking.

"Tinted windows," Minho says suddenly. "And it's dark. Don't worry."

"Right." Jisung nods, grateful as always for Minho's attentiveness and easing his worries. Now he can focus his attention on _not_ letting out embarrassing noises when small fingers curl around his cock and pump him slowly. He risks a glance at Minho and finds him staring back with glazed eyes, his meter jolting like no tomorrow.

"You're staring again," Jisung whines.

"I can't help it," Minho grins. "You're so cute, Jisungie."

Jisung, desperate to turn the tables and stop being so goddamn flustered, recalls how Minho's meter had reacted to him grabbing his thigh on the Ferris wheel, and decides to try his luck. He reaches over and grabs Minho's thigh with a firm grip, playing it off as something done to ground himself. He gets his desired reaction, Minho's breath catching and meter reacting violently. Jisung smirks to himself and slides his hand towards his inner thigh, knuckles brushing against his crotch, and squeezes the supple flesh there, too.

"I know what you're doing," Minho mumbles, tightening his hold and making Jisung whimper.

"I'm not doing anything." Jisung blinks innocently despite knowing he's been caught. He presses his palm into Minho's crotch, feeling triumphant at the surprised _ah_ he gasps out until he bats Jisung's hand away. Jisung doesn't have time to wonder if he'd done something wrong before Minho is dipping down from beside him without warning, dragging his warm tongue up Jisung's length.

Jisung curses under his breath and rests his hand on Minho's back, fingers fisting his sweater when he tongues at his tip. He keeps going until every centimeter of Jisung's dick is covered in his saliva, and Jisung feels like he's going crazy every time his breath hits the spit-slick skin.

Jisung is admittedly a little disappointed he can't really see what's going on with Minho's head blocking most of the action from view, but maybe it's better that way. He can just close his eyes, tip his head back, and enjoy it, not plagued with thoughts of how weird this is―though they're becoming less frequent by the second―or the visual of Minho's meter going as crazy as Jisung feels.

 _Shit._ Once again he'd gotten caught up in the moment and nearly forgotten his original purpose; this was supposed to be to relieve _Minho,_ not him. But also, once again, Minho had asked for this, and Jisung fully intends on returning the favor.

Maybe he should take mental notes, he thinks, but then all rational thought escapes his mind when he feels Minho guide his cock to his lips and envelops his tip in his warmth, tongue flicking the underside of his cock.

"Fuck," Jisung gasps, fisting Minho's sweater tighter as he puts in no small amount of effort to keep from bucking into his mouth. He bites back a moan as Minho sinks lower, tentatively bobbing his head a few times before pulling off, to Jisung's disappointment. He sits up and rolls his shoulders.

"This position is really uncomfortable," he says. Jisung stares at him dumbly for a moment, at his spit-slick lips jutted out in a pout. He wonders what it would feel like to kiss those lips.

"Oh," Jisung says finally, glancing around in thought. "Floorboard's pretty roomy?"

"Is this what I've been reduced to?" Minho sighs, grimacing at the floor space in front of Jisung that's admittedly roomier than most vehicles' ( _thanks, Changbin's parents, for being rich; you're saving us a lot of trouble tonight_ ) but still a little cramped. He crawls over to it anyway, wedging his arm between the door and the bottom of the driver's seat.

"Hey, you _wanted_ to―"

"Aha!" Minho interrupts when he manages to find the lever that sends the seat inching forward, giving him more room. When he's satisfied with the space, he turns back around to grin at Jisung, who doesn't think he should find such an action so cute when Minho's about to suck his dick again, but he does anyways.

"Your brain is _huge,_ " Jisung compliments, half-teasing. His heart pounds as Minho positions himself between his legs, arms resting on Jisung's thighs as he takes him into his hand again, stroking languidly.

Minho snickers. "My head's not bad either," he says with a mischievous grin, an endearing giggle spluttering out of his mouth following the lame joke.

"I guess we'll see," Jisung responds. He acts on impulse, reaching to brush Minho's bangs aside and nearly jerks his hand away when he realizes how _intimate_ it feels, but the way Minho freezes and his eyes practically sparkle up at him makes him linger for a few moments, stomach fluttering. 

Wordlessly, Minho leans in and runs his tongue up Jisung's cock from the base to tip, looking him in the eye the whole time before pushing him past his lips again, and _fuck._

Maybe Minho's head blocking the sight from view was better―for his sanity, if nothing else. Jisung feels like he's going to implode if Minho keeps looking at him like that with his pretty lips wrapped around his cock.

"Shit," Jisung hisses, blunt fingernails digging into expensive leather seats for a lack of anything better to do with his hands, sitting idle as Minho works his mouth on his cock euphorically. He knows how much Minho likes having his hair pet, though he isn't entirely sure about this context. Maybe he should just...

Jisung carefully threads a hand in Minho's soft brown locks, making sure to drag his nails against his scalp just how he likes. The reaction is instant, Minho moaning softly around him and Jisung groaning from the vibration as a result. He takes the moan and the enthusiastic gauge as encouragement, timidly tugging the strands.

Minho whimpers and bobs his head faster, his hand working the base where he can't quite reach. Jisung is sure it's only been a few minutes but he's already so _close,_ and Minho's muffled noises only push him faster towards the brink, continuous breathy moans escaping him.

"Minho," he chokes out, "I'm―oh _fuck_."

 _Fuck fuck fuck,_ he chants in his head. It starts as an expression of pleasure, but quickly morphs into panic when he realizes he's going to blow his load on his clothes―and this time, there's none of Changbin's to steal―or worse, in Changbin's car.

Fuck. For all his overthinking, Jisung really did _not_ think this one through.

"Minho, wait," he gasps. "W-Wait."

Minho pulls off of him, flicking away the string of saliva connecting him to Jisung's tip with his tongue, gaze expectant, lips swollen and red. Oh God, Jisung feels lightheaded.

"What?"

"Should we, uh, look for some tissues, or..." Jisung gnaws at his lip. "I don't wanna make a mess in here."

"Come in my mouth," Minho says simply, and that's the end of that since he gives Jisung no time to respond before sinking down on him again, immediately resuming an unforgiving pace that has Jisung curling his toes and letting out embarrassing moans. He tightens the hand in Minho's hair enough to make him hum around him, and part of him wants to fight his orgasm to keep from spilling in Minho's mouth, but he doesn't have much say in the matter when it feels this _fucking good._

A few more bobs of Minho's head, fingers tight around his cock, and Jisung is trying to stammer out a warning but all he lets out is a strangled moan, climax washing over him. Minho's mouth works him through it diligently, not letting a drop spill from his lips as he swallows it down.

"Jesus," Jisung breathes, finally withdrawing his hand from Minho's hair to hastily stuff himself back into his pants and pull them up before he gets too embarrassed.

"Good?" Minho asks, smiling up at Jisung with lips swollen sinfully and hands resting on Jisung's knees. He looks like a kitten begging for pets, and Jisung can't resist the temptation to do just that, earning a flush when he smooths a hand over the top of Minho's head.

"You were right about your head not being bad," Jisung jokes, earning a pleased giggle. "Should we, uh, switch spots?"

"Oh." Minho's eyes widen. "You don't have to―"

"Bullshit," Jisung cuts in. He doesn't mean to sound harsh; he's not irritated with Minho, but himself, for getting carried away again and letting Minho prioritize him as always. This was supposed to be about _Minho,_ dammit. He softens his tone. "Get up here and let me suck your dick, homie."

Minho blinks, bewildered, a nervous laugh startled out of him as he allows Jisung to guide him into his previous spot, his gauge jerking all over the place. Luckily for Jisung and his smaller frame, the floorboard is plenty spacious as he positions himself to―

To suck Minho's dick.

Oh God. Jisung doesn't know how to suck dick. He never thought he'd need the skill in his life―never thought he'd _want_ it. But he finds himself eager to please Minho―to relieve his gauge, yes, but also just... because.

 _Because_ ―?

Because he's Minho, because he's Jisung's best friend. Jisung loves him. Minho deserves it. And if Jisung can make him feel anywhere near as good as _that_ felt, he'll be satisfied with himself. Minho's gauge will be back down to a safe level, and everything will be fine.

Assuming he can give a proper blowjob, that is.

"I've never done this," Jisung rasps, wetting his lips as he glances at the sizable bulge in Minho's jeans, heart rate high.

"Jisung," Minho tries again, and Jisung knows what's coming before he says it, "you really don't have to. I'm not gonna die if I don't... you know."

Jisung scoffs lightly at that. "Well, you might not _die,_ but..." He trails off, eyes sliding over to his gauge until Minho brings him back with a quizzical sound. Jisung clears his throat, scooting closer between Minho's legs, blinking up at him innocently as his hands slide up to his thighs. "Let me take care of you, too?"

Minho's pupils nearly eclipse his pretty brown eyes, meter and a stuttering breath betraying the way Jisung's words affect him. If he manages to still be modest and hesitant _now,_ Jisung will be shocked by his endurance, but thankfully that isn't the case. Minho gives him a slight nod, looking spectacularly starstruck. Jisung smiles in return, snaking his hands up to unfasten Minho's pants, suddenly feeling marginally bolder now that he realizes that just about everything he does in this context turns Minho into a flustered mess.

Minho lifts off the seat to help Jisung slide his pants out of the way and free his cock, flushed and glistening with precome under the washed-out streetlights filtering through the window. Jisung's stomach flutters with nerves as he takes it into his hand, leaning forward to timidly lap at the tip, testing out the strange, mostly-tasteless liquid that coats it. The minimal contact already has Minho whimpering quietly, and it bolsters Jisung's confidence as he licks a fat stripe up his length, earning more quiet sounds of encouragement as he explores with his tongue.

He pulls back to admire―no, just _observe_ ―Minho's dick glistening with his spit. Now that he's really looking at it, Minho's kind of... thick, which shouldn't come as a surprise considering the rest of him, especially the thighs that Jisung just now realizes he'd been absentmindedly kneading. He hopes he won't have any trouble fitting him in his mouth, but Jisung's mouth is pretty big. It's the teeth he has to watch out for, lest he reenact the sloppy, slightly-painful blowjob he'd received from that one girl... Yikes.

He glances up at Minho while he strokes him lazily, noting the blush fanning across his cheeks and the lip caught between his teeth. He's somehow even more gorgeous like this, and Jisung wonders how the hell Minho hasn't, in his words, made it past third base yet. If someone like _Minho,_ with godlike features and a heart of gold can't get laid, there's _no_ hope for Jisung.

Jisung can only hope that he can make him feel good with his inexperienced mouth. For his meter's sake, of course.

He exhales, noting Minho's shudder when the air hits his spit-covered dick, and lowers himself until the tip pushes past his lips, giving the head a timid suck as his tongue dips into the slit. He flickers his eyes up to Minho just in time to see him throw his head back with a soft moan, hitting the back window with a dull thud.

 _"Fuck._ Ow."

Jisung can't help the giggles that bubble up in his chest, pulling off to avoid accidentally biting Minho's dick off in his laughter.

"Shut up," Minho whines, a smile tugging at his lips even as he covers his eyes with his hand in embarrassment.

"Okay, okay," Jisung chuckles, schooling his expression as he tugs on Minho's sleeve to pull his hand away from his face. "I'm done." He means it, but when he catches sight of Minho's pout he bursts into giggles again.

"It's not that funny," Minho mumbles through petulantly puckered lips.

"I know. Sorry." Jisung manages to stop himself, not wanting to make Minho insecure. God only knows if he is, but Jisung knows if it were _him,_ he'd be embarrassed. Still, Minho returns his smile for as long as it takes the next words to leave his mouth: "You're just so cute."

Then the smile is wiped from his face to be replaced by wide-eyed embarrassment, both hands flying to hide his face. _"Ugh._ Don't use that against me."

"It's true," Jisung coos. He'd been teasing him, sure, but Minho is undeniably cute in every form, especially right now. He's never seen him so flustered, but something within Jisung spurs him on, makes him want to take advantage and see how much he can make Minho fall apart. He laves at his head again without warning while Minho's hands shield him from view, his hips twitching in surprise as he lets out a soft _ah,_ hands falling away to reveal an expression so needy that it practically knocks the air out of Jisung.

Jisung swallows but quickly collects himself, wanting to maintain the upper hand while he can. "See?" he says. "Cute."

"I didn't tease you this much," Minho whines, again.

"That's on you."

His lower lip juts out in a pout, his fingers playing with Jisung's where they rest on Minho's thigh. "Jisungie..."

"Okay, I'm done," Jisung vows. "For real this time."

"Good," Minho huffs, "because it's only a matter of time until..." He glances out the window, his eyes widening in horror. Jisung stops breathing. "Oh fuck, Changbin and Seungmin!"

"What?!" Jisung tries to scramble to his feet and get _far away_ from Minho, hitting his head on the roof of the car in the process. He barely processes the dull pain or the fact that Minho is laughing his ass off through his desperation to―

Wait.

Jisung freezes, halfway in the seat next to Minho while the older _cackles._ A glance in the direction Minho had stared at confirms that Changbin and Seungmin are, in fact, _not_ on their way, and that Minho is an asshole. Jisung tells him as much.

"You're such an asshole!" he cries, shoving Minho's shoulder with one hand while he rubs the top of his head with the other, pouting.

"Payback," Minho laughs, sending him a wink.

"I don't even want to suck your dick anymore," Jisung grumbles, a hand over his chest as he wills his heart to calm down after the threat of nearly being caught.

Minho pouts _again_ (seriously, he needs to stop being so cute), and reaches for the waistband of his underwear like he's actually about to put his dick up. Not on Jisung's watch. His hand darts out to grab Minho's wrist.

"I didn't _mean_ it," he says, grinning at Minho's surprised expression (and reactive gauge) as he shuffles back to the floorboard before him.

"Oh," is all Minho says.

"You're an asshole," Jisung repeats, jumping back into it and pumping his cock as if there'd been no interruption.

"We've established that," Minho says, voice wavering as he lets out a breathless chuckle.

Jisung bites his lip, peering up at Minho. All the fight seems to be gone from him, his heavy gaze filled with nothing but desire. To get off, that is. Jisung knows it isn't meant for him, but it's still a sight to behold.

He figures he can play with him a little more, while he has the chance.

"But you're so cute I can't help myself," Jisung teases. He feels himself flush at his own words. He'd just said them to get a rise out of Minho, but it backfired. They tease each other like this all the time; why is he so embarrassed?

Probably because Minho's dick is in his hand.

Minho isn't unaffected either, groaning as he throws his head back (much more carefully this time). _"Jisu―"_

His complaint is cut short with a gasp of pleasure when Jisung's tongue meets his length again. He licks up the underside just once before deciding to stop wasting time (honestly, Minho's got him paranoid now, and the last thing he wants is for Changbin and Seungmin to come back to this) and taking the head into his mouth. Minho curses as he takes more of him into his mouth, tongue dragging over his cock and hand gripping where he's too afraid to attempt to reach.

It feels strange, having a dick in his mouth, but Jisung doesn't hate it. Actually, as he starts to build up a rhythm of bobbing his head, rewarded with Minho's soft moans and a hand in his hair, he kind of... _likes_ it? It's nice, in a strange way, to make his friend feel good. And the way Minho tugs at his hair isn't half bad, either.

He pops off to catch his breath and stroke him roughly, feeling proud as Minho's noises increase in frequency and his hips seem to become more restless. Jisung glances up at him through his lashes as he sinks back down, bobbing his head. Minho's hips buck ever so slightly as he moans out an _oh fuck, Jisungie,_ hand tightening in his hair to the point that it's almost painful. Jisung likes it more than he should, probably.

Just a few more twists of his fist, drags of his lips, and mewls from Minho, and he's having an obvious struggle to stay planted on the seat as he cries out. "Gonna come," he warns, tugging at Jisung's hair as if to try and pull him off. But if Minho can take it, so can he.

Jisung hums around him in encouragement, speeding up his motions, and in a matter of seconds Minho is coming with Jisung's name on his lips and a warm substance spilling onto Jisung's tongue.

"Fuck, holy shit," Minho pants while Jisung slows his strokes, working him through it. "Uh―" Minho digs around the seat, coming up with a few napkins and offering them to Jisung. "Do―Do you wanna..."

Jisung shakes his head as he pulls off, mortified by the cum that dribbles from his chin while he swallows the rest down, surprised to find he doesn't mind it. It's _weird,_ like all of this is, but he supposes he could get used to it.

_Wait, what?_

He ends up accepting a napkin from Minho anyway, wiping his chin as he lifts himself to the seat beside his friend. Minho is already tucked back into his pants by the time he flops down beside him, twiddling his thumbs.

Fuck. Now what? Are they going to talk about that? Should they even try? They _had_ both agreed on the Ferris wheel that this wouldn't change anything or be weird unless they made it so.

Maybe they should just pretend like it didn't happen. That way, at least Jisung won't blurt out anything stupid about how good Minho looked, flushed with pretty lips puffy and red, pleasure on his features, or how good his mouth felt, or how Jisung actually kind of _liked_ giving him head and wouldn't really mind doing it again. 

If he had to, of course. For the meter.

Right, the meter. That's what this is about, he reminds himself. He relaxes with a sigh as he finally takes notice of it, drained dry from Minho's orgasm. Thank God.

Usually, silence between them is comfortable, but Jisung isn't exactly used to the silence of them both catching their breath after sucking each other off. He doesn't know what to do or say, or if Minho even expects him to do or say anything after that, but luckily their phones seem to make the decision for him as they buzz at the same time.

**Seungmin  
** Hello?  
did you find your wallet????

 **Changbin  
** cut the shit  
did u guys steal my truck or what

 **Jisung  
** yes  
taking her for a joyride ttyl bitches

 **Minho  
** you can't even drive

 **Changbin  
** I will not hesitate to kill you  
anyways where are u guys

 **Jisung  
** we're otw back

 **Seungmin  
** what took so long  
come ride the drop tower with us

 **Minho  
** you're out of your mind

 **Jisung  
** correction: we'll meet you by the tent that sells funnel cakes so binnie can treat us  
have your wallet ready baby

 **Changbin  
** i only promised a funnel cake to minho

 **Seungmin  
** what was the point of wasting thirty minutes to find your wallet if you're still just going to freeload

 **Jisung  
** i had to make sure i didn't lose it on a ride!!  
what if someone stole my identity!

 **Minho  
** no one wants that trust me

 **Jisung  
** you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid

 **Seungmin  
** ugh  
just hurry they're gonna start kicking people out soon

 **Jisung  
** we're comingggg

Minho snorts beside him, and Jisung regards him with a questioning look. "Actually, we already came―"

"Oh my God, shut up!" Jisung shrieks, slapping Minho's arm though he can't help but laugh at the dumb joke himself. Okay, so Minho acknowledged it, but he gets a free pass. The opportunity was too good to pass up, Jisung supposes. He shakes his head and sighs as he slides towards the car door. "All right, we should go before they send a search party for us."

"Wait." Minho's voice stops him in his tracks and he turns, startling to see how much closer Minho had gotten. Jisung's heart stutters, breath catching in his throat. _What's happening?_ Jisung frets as Minho reaches for his face, but his fingers only brush against his temple as he smooths down Jisung's hair where he had been pulling, offering a sheepish smile.

"Oh," Jisung exhales, finally, as Minho pulls away. He realizes he should return the favor, Minho's hair a little mussed where Jisung had threaded his hands in it. So he runs his fingers through the locks, the air between them dead silent as Minho leans slightly into the touch. Jisung smiles fondly, patting it down before giving a pat to Minho's cheek.

"All good?" Jisung asks, gaze flickering to Minho's lips, still a little red and puffy. There's nothing he can do about that but hope it goes down by the time they find their friends. If Changbin or Seungmin asks, they had red snowcones.

"Mostly." There's a little smirk on Minho's lips that makes Jisung feel warm as he mirrors him, glancing at Jisung's lips.

"Right." Jisung purses his lips self-consciously, exiting the car and setting off to hunt down their friends.

They spend the last half hour or so that the fair is open eating snacks and people watching, and Jisung is thrilled that the air between him and Minho is perfectly clear. They're glued to each other's sides like normal again, giggling with each other throughout the night. Jisung is able to have mindless, worry-free fun and share a lot of laughs with his best friends, and he doesn't think he could be happier with the way the night turned out.

Minho dumps Jisung into the backseat of Changbin's truck, having given him a piggyback ride since he had complained about being too tired to walk back, before rounding the truck and settling in himself. Jisung buckles in and relaxes against the comfortable seats, the pleasant weariness that comes after a fun day settling in his bones as he smiles softly, eyes fluttering shut.

"Why the fuck is my seat pushed all the way up here?" Changbin asks.

Jisung's eyes fly open and he and Minho share a horrified look.

"Probably because they were looking for Jisung's wallet," Seungmin scoffs. _Obviously_.

Jisung purses his lips to stifle laughter, and Minho follows suit, both breaking out into silent giggles. Jisung slaps Minho's arm in a plea for him to stop laughing so Jisung, in turn, can stop laughing, but it results in Minho dragging him close by the arm and tucking him into his side.

That's one way to make Jisung stop laughing.

His heart thumps heavy in his chest, but all he can focus on is how warm Minho is and how heavy his eyelids feel. He barely moves to accommodate Minho as he buckles him into the middle seat and wraps an arm around his shoulders, holding him close.

Yeah. They're okay.

Jisung falls asleep in no time, a smile on his face.

☆彡


	3. Chapter 3

Jisung awakens to an almost suffocating heat, taking note of a familiar weight draped across his midriff and legs as he gains consciousness.

The last thing Jisung remembers is falling asleep on Minho's shoulder in Changbin's truck. He must have stumbled―or been carried by Minho, as has happened before―to his bed, if that's even where he is right now. He assumes so, since Minho is more often the one to sleep over.

He blearily blinks the sleep from his eyes, confirming that it's his own room Minho had carried or led him to and decided to crash in. He can't blame him; it was a long day, especially after they...

Jisung's eyes fly open, heart beating fast in his chest as the memories of the previous night come flooding back, Minho's hand in his hair, Minho's lips around him, Minho's lust-filled gaze. Minho pressed up against him, his laughter filling the air with his friends'. Vague memories of being nudged awake to unlock his dorm, held securely in Minho's arms, Minho forcing him to brush his teeth, tucking him into bed, cuddling up next to him.

_Minho._

Something in Jisung's stomach flutters as he runs a gentle hand over the back of Minho's, gingerly wrapping fingers around his wrist and attempting to free himself from his hold. Minho stirs, grunting and instead _tightening_ his hold, pulling Jisung closer to his chest. It would be nice if his body weren't so _hot._

Y'know, temperature-wise.

"Hyung," Jisung whispers, jostling his arm. _"Hyung._ Lemme go. I need to pee."

Minho whines, nuzzling into the back of Jisung's neck. His warm breath tickles his skin and sends goosebumps down his spine, making Jisung repress a shudder. While trying to worm his way out of Minho's iron grip, Jisung spots the cat plush he had won at the fair last night lying just by his bed, as if he had dropped it during the night. He wonders if Minho had put it in his arms, the thought making him smile sleepily as he stretches his arm out to pick it up.

"Here," he says, wedging the orange and white cat under Minho's arm. "Cuddle Soonie Junior."

"Wanna cuddle Jisungie Junior," Minho mumbles, barely intelligible.

Jisung glances at the clock and realizes they still have a couple of hours before either of them really needs to be up. "I'll come back," he promises. With a final sleepy grumble, Minho relents, and Jisung springs out of bed and away from his warmth. Jisung glances back at him as he exits, smiling when he sees the plushie clutched close to his chest, eyes screwed shut with a furrow between his eyebrows and a pout on his lips.

He's just _so cute._

Jisung feels heat rise to his face as he recalls himself saying those exact words to Minho the night before. On his knees. With his dick in his hand. It was as true then as it is now, but in a _vastly_ different way.

 _I need to pull myself together,_ Jisung tells himself, shaking off the thoughts and heading to the bathroom. _I can't make things weird again._

How does Minho do it? How does he remain so unaffected by everything? He's always been a "go with the flow" type of guy, but how does one keep that up even when it comes to something like fooling around with your best friend?

Still, if he can, surely Jisung can as well. He'll just... take it in his stride and hope for the best until he finds a solution for Minho's glaring problem.

He splashes some water on his face and shivers, missing Minho's warmth even though it's the reason he got up in the first place. By the time he comes back to his room, Minho has rolled over facing the wall. On autopilot, Jisung slips under the covers next to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and a leg around his like a baby koala, nuzzling into his back with a content hum.

(He also notes that Minho's meter is at a healthy one-forth full or so, the lowest he's seen it yet save for after messing around. Maybe he just needs to knock Minho out every time he gets super horny to keep him safe.)

It doesn't take long for Jisung to doze off again when he's so comfortable and warm. He doesn't know how long his nap lasts before he's startled awake by a combination of Minho wiggling in his arms and sounds that he slowly begins to recognize as whimpers.

He's plenty used to Minho's sleep talk, and he's been woken up by it more times than he can count. But this... is different. This sounds more like how Minho had sounded when he was buried in Jisung's mouth, not when he's laughing creepily to himself in his sleep.

Jisung is wide awake again within seconds, holding his breath as he carefully lifts his head to peer over Minho's shoulder, seeing his eyes flutter behind his eyelids, lips parted as soft mewls escape them. His gauge is full, of course, as his hips shift under the blanket. Jisung's mouth goes dry, his face hot.

_What the fuck do I do?_

Which would be more humiliating, waking Minho up mid-wet dream or letting him finish it and potentially cream his pants in Jisung's bed? There's a clear answer, Jisung thinks, he just has to bring himself to do it.

But then Minho's ass moves back towards Jisung, grinding into his dick that he hadn't even realized was beginning to harden. _Fuck._ _You've done it now, Jisung._

"Hyung," Jisung hisses, grabbing ahold of Minho's hip hard in an attempt to stop his motions, even though an animalistic part of his brain is screaming to just grind into Minho, too. He shakes him sternly. "Minho, wake up."

Minho's movements slow, thank God, and he turns to Jisung, blinking sleep from his widening eyes. He freezes, taking in the situation. "Was―Was I..."

"Yeah," Jisung whispers, fingers still dug into Minho's hip.

"Oh my God," he mumbles and hurriedly scoots away, tips of his ears red. "Sorry."

Jisung almost stops him, almost uses his grip on his hips to pull them back flush against his own and see if Minho wants finish what he started, but he lets him go.

It's been less than twelve hours since they fooled around, for fuck's sake. Minho may be _insatiable,_ but Jisung doesn't want to overdo it or get _too_ used to whatever they had (have?) going on.

Where did that impulse come from, anyway? Maybe if Minho hadn't fucking _grinded_ on him...

"Go jack off in the bathroom or something, man." Jisung hits him playfully with a pillow, to hopefully ease Minho's embarrassment and conceal the confusing flurry of thoughts in his own head while he's at it. "I need to get dressed."

Minho grunts, hands dipping down to adjust himself before he's crawling over Jisung and padding off to the bathroom. Jisung exhales, wondering if he'll actually do what he said. Will it satisfy him the same way Jisung's managed to twice now? Does he need him at all?

Jisung sighs, running his hands down his face as he gathers the gumption to slide out of bed a second time, trading his pajama pants for sweatpants and the tank top from the night before for a band tee. He doesn't have much luck in taming his hair, so he slips a black beanie over it. By the time he's finished half-assing his appearance for the day, Minho returns with a flush on his cheeks and an empty meter.

 _Oh._ He really did jack off. Jisung tries not to think too hard about it, but he finds himself wondering if Minho thought of him, of the things they did. He then nearly laughs at the sudden thought. 

Jisung isn't _that_ stupid; he knows he's just a means to an end, a convenient way to get off. Surely Minho has better things stored in the spank bank to think about. Which is fine! It's totally fine. Nothing wrong with that, not at all.

Minho yawns as he crosses the room to grab his phone from the nightstand and shove it into his pocket. He pulls his sweater from the night before over a tee shirt he'd stolen from Jisung's drawer. At least the sweatpants were his, one of two pairs he keeps here for impromptu sleepovers.

"Late breakfast after class?" Minho asks, voice still thick with sleep.

"Hell yeah."

"'Kay." He heads back out, slapping Jisung's butt on the way and making him squeak. He turns around to give Jisung a shitty little smirk and an awful attempt at a wink as he heads for the exit. "See you then."

Jisung shakes his head, flopping down on his bed and grabbing his phone to kill a few minutes until he has to leave for class. A few messages from Changbin catch his eye and he taps on them curiously.

**Changbin  
** heyyy  
everything ok??  
with you and minho i mean  
i found something that might cheer you up

 **Jisung  
** i think we're good man ^^  
what is it tho?

 **Changbin  
** that's good. had me worried  
anyway  
 _[Image attached]_

Jisung squints at the screen as he taps on a picture of what appears to be a flyer, neon pink and blue accents against a black background. "Scene Stealers: Singles Night!" it reads, followed by a bunch of text detailing the event that Jisung doesn't really feel like reading. His eyebrows pinch together in confusion.

**Jisung  
** what am i looking at rn

 **Changbin  
**???  
a singles night bro  
hello?  
who are you and what have you done with han jisung

 **Jisung  
** what do you mean lol

 **Changbin  
** dude!!!!  
we're pretty much guaranteed a date if we show up early enough  
aren't you always dying for a gf  
do i have the wrong number???

Oh.

_Oh!_

This is perfect! This could be the answer to all his and Minho's problems. If they can both land a date, Minho will be out of the danger zone with someone to satisfy his needs, and Jisung will be one step closer to finally having a girlfriend.

**Jisung  
** i'm in!!  
you're a genius btw

 **Changbin  
** i know :D

 **Jisung  
** i'll talk to minho  
get seungmin on board  
we are Doing This

☆彡

"I'm not doing this."

"What do you mean you're not doing this?" Jisung gasps, balking at his best friend and talking with his cheeks full of strawberry pancake goodness.

Minho makes a face of disgust for show—Jisung _knows_ he thinks his puffy squirrel-esque cheeks are cute. "Chew your food before you speak to me."

Jisung obeys, though not without rolling his eyes first. Once he's swallowed the rather large bite down, he asks again. "Why aren't you going?"

Minho shrugs, poking at his own waffle with his fork. "Why would I? You _know_ I'm not, like―" He trails off, a slight pout on his lips.

"Not what?"

"Not interested in that kind of thing."

 _That kind of thing?_ Jisung blinks. "No, I _didn't_ know that. It's not like you ever told me."

Minho shovels a bite into his mouth and chews silently before responding. "I guess, but it's not that hard to tell, is it?"

"Do you think you're easy to read or something?" Jisung huffs a quiet laugh, poking at his food. "No one ever knows what's going on in that pretty head of yours."

_Except for the fact that you're extremely horny, anyway._

Aside from that, how is Jisung supposed to know what the hell is going through Minho's head without him _telling_ him? He keeps his walls up and he's unpredictable and strange and Jisung loves that about him, but it's less than ideal sometimes when he doesn't know how to approach a certain topic.

Jisung and Minho are very different but also very similar, like they're on different ends of the same wavelength, so there are certain things Jisung is able to pick up on. 

He knows when Minho is angry from his clipped tone and the set of his jaw. He knows when he's sulking. He picks up on it when Minho's subtle tells of being nervous or stressed show, and Jisung is then able to do what he can to take his mind off of things and comfort him. He knows Minho doesn't like being pitied, so he does it in an equally as subtle way as he can.

He's learned these things not by asking or even trying, but by picking up on cues throughout the years they've spent as friends, and even then, he can't recognize them _all_ the time, only when they're strong enough to shine through the walls he's built. 

Maybe it's on Jisung. He's always felt a little guilty every time he realized how little he knows certain things about his friend, but has he really _tried_ hard enough?

Now that he thinks about it, Minho has never been keen on joining him or Changbin in their picking-up-chicks endeavors. He'd always assumed it was for the same reason that Seungmin cited when refusing an invitation for a night out: "I don't want to watch you guys embarrass yourselves." 

Which, okay, that's fair. Jisung can't blame either of them for that.

Maybe Minho has his own methods in mind for finding a girlfriend. But as far as Jisung knows, they're _kind of_ on borrowed time here. Minho needs a girlfriend _yesterday._ He really wishes he'd just suck it up and join them.

Minho hums, his voice pulling Jisung out of his head. He drops a few slices of strawberry on top of Jisung's pancakes now that he's run out, and Jisung's heart swells a bit at the action despite his muddled head and frustration at the ability to get inside of Minho's.

"I didn't realize," he murmurs. His voice brightens up then. "It's okay, I'll just have a movie night with Seungminnie while you two are busy."

"Hey!" Jisung puckers his lips in a pout. "You don't watch movies with Seungmin. That's _our_ thing."

"We'll all just have to get used to it," Minho singsongs. "If you and Binnie somehow, by the grace of God, get girlfriends, you'll be too busy for us. Adapt and overcome."

"First of all, fuck you," Jisung says, gathering condensation from his cup and flicking it across the table at Minho, who gasps indignantly. "Second of all, I'd never be too busy for you."

Minho blows a puff of air out of his nose, smiling faintly. "You say that now."

Jisung frowns, offended at the notion. Sure, it's common for someone in a new relationship to get so wrapped up in them that they forget the others in their life, but Jisung won't be like that. He's not sure if he can survive without Minho.

He's like... well, Minho is like his soulmate.

"Hyung, did you know rabbits die when they're lonely?"

Minho's eyebrows and nose scrunch in confusion. "Huh?"

"I couldn't do that to you!" Jisung insists, slamming his fist on the table for dramatic effect.

Minho stares at him, bewildered, before bursting into laughter that breaks Jisung's serious façade and causes him to giggle, too.

"I don't know what's worse, you implying that I'm a rodent or that I'd die without you," Minho snorts.

"You've called me a squirrel so many times!" Jisung argues. "You should be thankful; bunnies are cuter."

"So you think I'm cute?" Minho rests his chin on his hand, batting his long eyelashes.

"Oh, have you forgotten?" Jisung says, smiling smugly when Minho freezes. "I told you last night, didn't I?"

Minho's fork slips from his fingers and falls to his plate with a clatter, and he clears his throat, eyes darting around the table as a blush spreads across his cheeks. Jisung's smile grows wider, feeling proud of himself for being able to rile up Minho― _and_ his meter―so easily. "What? Cat got your tongue?"

"No," Minho says, sipping his drink. "But a squirrel got it." He glances up at Jisung, eyes crinkling as he lets out a goofy giggle. It's Jisung's turn to blush, but―okay, he _did_ kind of ask for it.

"Anyway," Minho speaks again, composing himself. A pretty pink still dusts his cheeks. "If anyone's a rabbit, it's you."

Jisung huffs. He has a point. Minho is more cat than anything, and maybe Jisung _would_ die of loneliness without Minho.

"Okay, fine," he relents. "That's fair. But either way, one of us would die, so my point still stands." Jisung finishes the last bite of his pancakes and pushes the plate away, folding his arms over the table. "So now that we've established that you _won't_ need Seungmin for _our_ movie nights, will you come with us?"

"Why do you want _me_ to go so badly?" Minho groans.

_Sheesh, how dense can he be?_

"Because we won't die from loneliness or be so goddamn horny if we _both_ got girlfriends! I mean, that's why I―why we―" Jisung gnaws at his bottom lip. "W-We won't need each other in... _that_ way, y'know?"

Minho stares at him, but it's like he's looking right through him. It's almost unnerving. Jisung shifts restlessly in his seat, suddenly nervous.

"Okay," Minho says finally, his voice soft, barely above a whisper. His expression is unreadable. "I'll go if that's what you want."

"Yes!" Jisung grins triumphantly, clapping his hands together. He whips his phone out. "I'll tell Changbin. Maybe he can convince Seungmin now that he's lost his movie partner."

"Good luck with that," Minho mumbles, rolling around a blueberry left over from his waffles on his plate, his cheek squished by his fist. Minho's emotions may be hard to read, but anyone can see when he's _pouting._

"Hey." Jisung taps Minho's foot with his own to get his attention. Minho peers up at him. "You know you're my best friend, right?" A slow nod. "You know I love you, right? I love you, hyungie," Jisung coos, leaning across the table to pinch his cheek where it's bunched up by his fist. Minho whines, batting his hand away and scooting out of his reach. "And I'm not going anywhere. Pals before gals."

"Pals before gals?" Minho repeats, an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah," Jisung says. "Like 'bros before hoes,' but more respectful."

"Wow, look at you," Minho deadpans. "So chivalrous. Maybe you have a chance after all."

"I've got more if you want to hear them."

"That's oka―"

"Mates before dates," Jisung says. "Misters before sisters."

"Okay, I get it."

"Dudes before prudes."

"So much for being a gentleman."

"Besties before the resties. You get the idea."

 _"Yes,_ I do," Minho says, exasperated.

"Are you convinced?" Jisung asks.

"Yes. Totally," Minho says, unconvincingly. "Anything to get you to shut up."

"I resent that."

"I resent you."

Jisung sticks out his tongue at Minho, a gesture the older childishly imitates.

 _Whatever._ Jisung will show him. If―no, _when_ ―he gets a girlfriend, nothing will change between them except for the weird... what, sexual tension? Jisung doesn't want to call it that, but that's all he can think to chalk it up to. 

It's not necessarily that they're attracted to one another, but getting off together has put them in a weird place, whether they take it well and behave normally or not. The fact still remains that they did those _things._

It won't be a problem anymore as soon as they each have a girlfriend.

The sooner the better.

☆彡

His chance at _sooner_ comes in just a few days that seemed to stretch into weeks with how much Jisung had been anticipating their outing.

He's been keeping Minho close in the meantime to keep an eye on his gauge (which never wavers). Keep your friends close and your dangerously horny best friends closer, as they say. Certainly _someone_ has said that, at least. At some point. Maybe.

Anyway, it's not much of a difference from their usual routine. More often than not, Minho is the one to contact Jisung and ask to go out or come over, but Jisung worries too much when he can't watch over him, so he's sure to invite him over a couple more times than he might normally.

They have an otherwise perfectly normal week, ace their exams, help each other cheat on homework. The usual. The only thing out of the ordinary is their newfound ability to fluster the hell out of one another.

It's not like it's never happened before; Jisung is easily flustered and he's starting to learn that Minho is, too. He's seen him blush more this week than probably the past year. The only difference now is a glaring one: the fact that every time they make jokingly sexual passes at one another, they're both reminded that they _did_ those things. It's weird, but apparently not weird enough for them to stop flirting.

Oh, and Jisung may have ended up with his dick in Minho's mouth again.

He had apparently taken his teasing too far one night, gotten too frisky, too handsy. _Maybe_ play-wrestling with Minho when he shot back a retort wasn't the best course of action when his gauge is so full (but when is it _not?_ ), and perhaps there was a better way to go about it than straddling him, sitting directly on top of his dick. But it happened, and there was no turning back.

He'd noticed, as Minho's meter went haywire, there was a new crack added to its collection. He panicked, and _maybe_ the sight of Minho beneath him wide wide eyes and flushed cheeks, brown hair fanned out around him on Jisung's bed, spurred him on. Either way, their actions landed them there: Jisung tentatively shifting atop Minho's dick, Minho's meter going insane when he realized what was happening, the two of them grinding on each other until they were so hard they couldn't stand it.

Minho had asked to suck Jisung's dick, and _God,_ how is he so incredible with his mouth? Jisung had offered to return the favor, but Minho timidly asked if he would just touch him instead. Jisung had pulled him into his lap, and maybe he got caught up in the heat of the moment, and maybe he shouldn't have run his mouth like he had.

 _"You sound so pretty,"_ he'd said. _"Does that feel good, baby?"_

Jisung takes a moment to stop in the middle of applying makeup to throw his head back and groan, cringing violently at the memory. How could he let himself _say_ those things? And how did Minho _get off to it?_

He'd come just seconds later, making a mess of his own shirt and Jisung's hand. Meanwhile Jisung's head spun and cheeks burned in embarrassment as he realized what he'd said, but shockingly Minho didn't tease him, only shyly asked to borrow a shirt.

Minho had left soon after with a low gauge, allowing Jisung some peace of mind save for the embarrassment and despair he felt every time he remembered the way he talked to Minho. Minho seemed to like it well enough, but Jisung isn't sure if that made it better or more distressing.

That was just last night, and despite everything being fine after their escapade in Changbin's truck the other night, Jisung is admittedly a little nervous to see Minho when they meet up to go out later. They'd been texting normally, Minho forwarding cat pictures his mom sent him along with a meme or two, but Jisung can't shake the strange feeling in the pit of his belly every time he thinks about Minho in his lap, Jisung's lips ghosting over the shell of his ear while he blabbered out some shitty attempt at dirty talk. Or the fact that Minho was _into it._

The lack of a girlfriend is really getting to Jisung's head. He almost wishes he could see his own meter, curious if it's as perpetually full as Minho's and _that's_ why he's getting so worked up. Still, as he looks in the mirror and applies some light eyeliner, there's no horny gauge reflected back at him, mocking him. He supposes he should be thankful.

He styles his black hair half-up, the left side falling on his forehead in gentle waves, giving himself once last once-over before deciding he's satisfied and going to get dressed. He wants to look nice, but not like he's trying too hard, so he opts for a simple black button-up, cargo pants, and his platform Docs.

"You _suuure_ you don't wanna go?" he asks Jeongin as his roommate puts a pot on the stove to boil.

"Positive," he responds dryly. Jisung knew he would, but he always tries to give him a chance anyway. "I'm not in the mood for fifth-wheeling nor a bunch of sweaty, desperate people."

"Fifth-wheeling?" Jisung laughs, but it comes out sounding a little forced. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Jeongin gives him a pointed look as if he's supposed to _know_ what it means.

 _Fuck._ He didn't hear Jisung and Minho messing around, did he? He doesn't think they're... _together_ , does he?

And what about the other two wheels? Seungmin and Changbin are just friends, too. Surely Jeongin was just joking, or maybe he'd just feel left out because the others are closer with one another. Otherwise, Jisung doesn't know what the hell he was trying to imply.

"Anyway..." Jisung says slowly, trying to smooth his furrowed brow. "I'll see you tomorrow, I guess. Don't wait up."

"I never do!" Jeongin calls after him, making Jisung laugh as he locks the door.

The walk to the parking deck where Changbin and the others are probably all waiting by now goes by fast with all the sightseeing (read: observing people's meters) Jisung does. He spots a very horny couple of girls rushing back towards the dorms, a couple making out where the guy's gauge is full and the girl's is as dry as Jisung's Tinder messages. Poor girl.

When Jisung arrives, he clocks Changbin first, looking suave in all black and a leather jacket to top it all off, meter about halfway full in anticipation. He's got a bit of a smokey eye going on, and he looks _good._ Jisung will be surprised if he goes home alone tonight.

Beside him, Seungmin is leaning up against his truck as they chat. He's in a white shirt and a sky blue cardigan that looks soft to the touch. It isn't what Jisung would consider ideal club wear, but it suits him; he looks handsome.

Jisung is surprised to notice Seungmin's meter is fuller than Changbin's. Maybe he was more willing to tag along tonight than he had let on, Jisung muses, watching as he squeezes Changbin's upper arm only for his own meter to inch up further. Jisung blinks, nearly stopping in his tracks.

Come to think of it, wasn't Seungmin's meter pretty high at the fair? Jisung definitely remembers it grabbing his attention, but he had been too preoccupied with Minho to put much thought into it. He _does_ remember it getting a little excited when Changbin played the high striker game.

Was Jeongin onto something...?

Jisung begins questioning everything he knows about his friend.

Is Seungmin even gay? Jisung feels a little sorry when he realizes he doesn't even know that much―but like Minho, Seungmin has never been open about a love life of any sort. Jisung simply never saw him as the type to be all that interested in something as fickle as romance, let alone with _Changbin._ The two have been friends for almost as long as Jisung and Minho, and they've always gotten along great and been affectionate towards one another. Maybe it isn't too far-fetched of a thought.

Then again, maybe Seungmin just has a thing for muscles. And Jisung supposes it's normal to be at least a little sexually attracted to your friends. Right? Yeah, that would explain a lot, in both his and Seungmin's cases.

"Yeah, it's pretty decent for the price," Changbin is saying as Jisung approaches. _Shame on you, Seungmin,_ he thinks. _Using Changbin's sexy leather jacket as an excuse to feel up his arms._ "Hey, look who decided to show."

"Hey," Jisung greets, rubbing his hands together nervously. "You look good."

"Thanks." Changbin shoots him a bright grin. "Felix has been practicing makeup a lot recently, and he offered to do mine, so I said why not?"

Jisung nods appraisingly. "I like it."

"Am I the only one who's not dressed like I belong in an emo band?" Seungmin asks. He _does_ look a little out of place between the two others; it's up to Minho to either balance them out or estrange Seungmin further.

"I think we'd need like twelve more piercings, three times as much eyeliner, and a few tattoos before we looked like a proper emo band," Jisung muses. "You can be our groupie or something."

"I've actually been thinking about getting my eyebrow pierced," Changbin says, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against the bed of his truck. Jisung doesn't miss the way Seungmin's eyes widen and meter twitches.

Yeah, Jisung is keeping an eye on him tonight for sure. More out of nosiness than anything else, though.

"Ooh, you should!" Jisung leans in, slinging an arm over Seungmin's shoulder and jostling him. "Don't you think, bro?"

Seungmin gives Jisung a peculiar look. "Uh, yeah," he says, turning to Changbin. "It would suit you."

Changbin beams, pleased with the answer. "You think so?" He pulls out his phone, opening the front camera. "Right or left eyebrow?"

Jisung scoffs. "Does it matter?"

"It's a hole in my face!" Changbin shouts. "Of course it matters!"

"Actually, it's two holes," Seungmin snarks.

"I'll show you two holes if you don't shut up," Changbin threatens. Seungmin's grin falls to be replaced by an expression of horror.

"What does that even—" 

Changbin quickly poses, snapping a picture of the two of them. He doubles over in laughter at the results, Seungmin wide-eyed in the back while Changbin casually throws up a peace sign. Jisung joins him while Seungmin shakes his head in disbelief.

"Hey, look who decided to show up," Seungmin drawls, and Jisung snaps his head up to see Minho walking towards them.

"Sorry," Minho says without much remorse. "I got a little carried away."

He gets close enough for Jisung to properly see him, and his mouth goes a little dry at the sight.

He's _also_ in a black button-up, the first few undone buttons putting his god-tier collarbones on display. The shirt is tucked into tight leather pants, and the look is accentuated by the dazzling silver-and-black necklaces, bracelets, and dangly earrings he wears. He'd opted to put on makeup as well, the glitter sparkling around his beautiful eyes and shimmering lips making Jisung feel like a lowly worm in his presence.

Changbin lets out a low whistle. "Yeah, no shit. You look good though." He claps a hand on Seungmin's back. "Sorry, man. You're out of the band."

"Band?" Minho cocks his head cutely, brown waves swaying with the movement. It takes Jisung until this moment to realize he's been staring at the older with his mouth hanging slightly open. He snaps it shut, thankful that Minho hasn't properly addressed him yet.

"Seungmin said we look like we're in an emo band," Jisung explains, gesturing between him and Changbin. "Welcome to the club. Or cult. Whatever it is."

Minho scoffs, giving Jisung a once-over. He nearly blushes, but manages to stop himself when Minho does the same to Changbin, nodding contemplatively. "Needs more piercings and eyeliner, but it's a good start."

"See!" Jisung exclaims. "That's what I said!"

"We'll get there," Changbin says, opening the driver's door. "Can we go now?"

"Right," Seungmin sighs. "Don't wanna keep the ladies waiting."

"Exactly," Jisung agrees quickly as if he hadn't _just_ remembered that's what they were about to do. He climbs in behind Minho, eyes catching on the way the leather of his pants clings to his thick thighs.

Jisung needs a hot girl in his line of sight _this instant._

To make matters worse, he can't stop fucking stealing glances at Minho on their way to the club, the city lights filtering through the window and catching on his eyeshadow and, _God,_ his fucking lip gloss.

Jisung can't stop wondering what it might taste like.

It's not like he's never seen Minho all dolled up like this. He likes to dress up for parties and other special occasions every once in a while, and even on normal days Jisung occasionally notices little wings of eyeliner adorning his pretty eyes. But goddamn, he looks so good tonight that it makes Jisung's gut twist inexplicably.

He has bigger things to worry about than his weird hormones―like how the fuck he's going to manage to make sure he picks up a girl, let alone that _both_ of them do.

His nerves only get worse when they reach the venue and he sees the crowd waiting inside for them. They're all either single or claiming to be, as is a requirement for entry on the club's _single's night._ Jisung instantly feels overwhelmed―from the sheer amount of attractive single girls, the high horny meters littered all around the club, and the crowd itself. Maybe this wasn't the best idea after all.

"You okay?" Minho's voice is low as he rejoins the group, in the process of ordering drinks (with fake IDs provided by none other than Minho's roommate), after he'd taken a quick trip to the restroom.

"Yeah, yeah," Jisung assures him. "Just, uh, a lot of hot girls, y'know?"

Minho hums, observing the crowd. Jisung is shocked to realize Minho's meter is _low._ He hasn't seen it this low since he got this power, aside from after he'd gotten off. He must have cracked under pressure and rubbed one out in the bathroom or something. That was _fast,_ though...

Anyway, Jisung doesn't need to think about Minho jerking off right now, _especially_ not when a group of girls offers to share their table, one in the corner with a long, round booth wrapping around it. Pink neon lights give it a nice atmosphere, and reflect prettily on the girls' sparkling makeup and jewelry.

Minho takes his seat, and Jisung moves to sit next to him but the girls beat him to it, surrounding Minho in an _instant_ like horny vultures. Jisung can't say he's surprised, but he feels a pang of jealousy all the same as he sits some distance away. Minho blinks rapidly, bewildered by the attention, but his gauge doesn't budge; meanwhile the girls sitting on either side of him are sporting gauges that are at least three-fourths full each.

 _What the hell, Minho?_ Jisung thinks, appalled to see Minho return their flirty gestures with polite, disinterested smiles. _Don't ruin this for yourself!_

"He didn't even want to come tonight," Jisung scoffs bitterly, taking a sip of his cocktail. "I had to practically beg him."

"Are you surprised?" Changbin laughs. "Minho's popular with the ladies."

"I guess not..." Jisung sighs, taking another long sip.

"It's _so_ hot when guys are confident enough in their masculinity to wear makeup," the blonde on Minho's left fawns.

"Right?" the brunette on his right agrees. "It's, like, my dream to have a boyfriend who'll let me do his makeup."

"We're wearing makeup too," Jisung grumbles. Seungmin gives his back a sympathetic pat before engaging in conversation with Changbin that Jisung doesn't even bother tuning into, too busy practically boring holes into Minho's head with his gaze while Minho squanders an opportunity that Jisung would kill for.

"Seungmin?" A high-pitched voice standing by their table grabs Jisung's attention as he turns to see a pretty girl with a curly bob (and a very tight skirt) smiling at his friend. "Hey! I thought I saw you come in! Mind if I sit with you?"

"Oh, hey!" Seungmin greets. He glances at Jisung, who's occupying the end of the booth and preventing entry. "Um..."

"I was just going," Jisung says, finishing the last of his drink and taking it to the bar to get another, flashing a polite smile at the girl as he goes.

Changbin appears next to him after a few minutes, running a hand through his hair. "Man, I can't believe this."

"That _we're_ the ones that wanted this, and they're the ones with girls crawling all over them?" Jisung scoffs. "Yeah, me neither."

"I was gonna say that I couldn't believe how that girl sat next to Seungmin and they started talking about _school_ all excited and shit, but yeah, that too."

"Wait, really?" Jisung asks, stifling a laugh.

"Yeah! I mean, they were _into it."_ Changbin sighs, and places an order for another drink, earning a _look_ from Jisung. "What? Last one. It'll wear off by the time we leave."

That's not really what Jisung meant, but he supposes it's not his business to pry in Changbin and Seungmin's _affairs._ If they could be called that. With a glance back at the table, eyes squinted to see the gauges, Jisung notes that Seungmin's got _lower_ since he (or, more specifically, Changbin) left.

"I think they're just friends," Jisung comments, gulping down a sip of his drink―something a little harder this time. He's desperate to feel the effects of the alcohol hit his nervous system. "Those girls all over Minho, though..."

"At least _someone_ is getting lucky tonight," Changbin quips. It makes Jisung's stomach turn.

"If he stops being such a stick in the mud," Jisung gripes.

"Nah, girls are into the whole 'hard to get' thing." Changbin hums thoughtfully. "Maybe we should start acting like we don't give a shit. Not giving a shit got our friends this far."

"Maybe," Jisung laughs.

Changbin leaves for the dancefloor once he finishes his drink, and Jisung feels a tad too self-conscious sitting at the bar without the security of any of his friends, so he opts to return to the same vicinity as Minho. Seungmin is still chattering away happily with his equally nerdy friend, and Minho is still swamped with horny girls. Jisung sighs, plopping himself down at a smaller table near theirs, averting his gaze when Minho glances at him helplessly.

Why does Jisung feel so _shitty?_ He swirls his drink around, staring at the ice as it clinks around atop the liquid. Isn't this what he _wanted?_ For Minho to get a girlfriend, so he wouldn't have to worry about him anymore?

Well, the plan was for _both_ of them to get girlfriends. Rabbits die from loneliness, after all, and Jisung wouldn't much appreciate being left in the dust for a new girlfriend, either. On top of that, it only makes sense for him to be jealous of his insanely attractive friend who didn't even want to come tonight soaking up all the ladies' attention without even trying.

After a few more minutes of brooding, Jisung nearly jumps out of his own skin when a girl drops into the seat across from him. She's _hot,_ too―dark blue, shoulder-length hair, a nose ring, pretty, dark makeup, and a leather jacket gracing her small figure. Jisung digs her style, even if her meter is pretty low.

"Hi," she greets with a disarming, sweet smile that contrasts her edgy look. "You, too?"

"Hi!" Jisung tries to wipe what was probably a pout off of his face, sitting up straight. "W-What, uh, what do you mean?"

"My friends dragged me here, too," she sighs, taking a swig from her own glass. "And left me alone to be all over your pretty boy friend over there." She nods towards Minho.

"Oh, that sucks." Jisung rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "The funny thing is, I actually dragged _him_ here... Smart, right?"

"No way," she snorts. _"That_ backfired, huh? Sorry, man. It's not funny, I'm just a little drunk."

"No, no," Jisung laughs weakly, "it's okay. It's pretty funny." He casts a glance towards Minho, alarmed to find him staring back. He feels heat creep up to his cheeks, like he's been caught doing something he shouldn't.

"Well, listen," she leans in, looking around conspiratorially, "I'm not into dudes, but if you need a buddy to do something besides mope with, I'm down."

Jisung finds himself grinning despite the flicker of disappointment he feels at her admission, having hoped he sparked interest in someone, but she seems really cool regardless. "Seriously? So you're what, like, offering to pretend to be interested in me so I look like less of a loser?"

"It sounds mean when you put it that way," she laughs, "but yeah, pretty much. I mean, it's not like I'm doing much better myself."

If Jisung doesn't take her up on it, he knows he'll just keep sitting here despairing over Minho, and the evening will be a complete bust. At least this way, Jisung might make a friend out of it; he doesn't usually make them easily, but he already feels drawn to the stranger's attitude. Plus, he'd kind of like to make a point that he _can_ pick up girls, even if it is just a charade.

"I'm in," Jisung decides, finishing his drink. "What do we do?"

"Sweet. Wanna dance?"

This is where Jisung would normally hesitate, but the alcohol in his system makes it an easy yes. Jisung wills himself not to look in Minho's direction as she leads him away.

"I'm Ryujin, by the way," the girl introduces herself as they make their way towards the dancefloor. "You got a name with all that repressed homosexuality?"

"That _what?"_ Jisung's eyes bulge, jaw dropping at her assumption. Is _that_ how he looked, glaring at Minho? He was jealous of the attention he was getting, not―not...

Right? No. What does she know? She just met him.

"Well, do you?" she prompts.

"Um―I'm Jisung," he says quickly. "I'm sorry, come again? About the homosexuality?"

Ryujin shrugs, laughing. "I call 'em like I see 'em, Jisung." She doesn't give him a chance to respond, dragging him into a sea of sweaty bodies and deafening music, immediately giving in to the rhythm and bouncing around. Jisung does his best to follow her lead, still a little shell-shocked from the bomb she just dropped.

The music and the alcohol make it a little easier to push it from his mind as he loses himself in them both, allowing himself to let loose and dance like a fool. He's having a great time despite not picking up any girls like he'd desperately hoped to (none that like men, anyway, but he likes this one just fine).

He even spots Changbin dancing with a couple of girls, and they all seem to be having fun, which makes Jisung happy in turn. This night is turning out to be a success after all, with Jisung and Changbin having fun on the dancefloor, Seungmin having fun being a nerd, and Minho... well, he'd be crazy not to enjoy all the attention he's getting, wouldn't he?

And if he ends up taking someone home, that's even better.

That's what Jisung tells himself, anyway.

No amount of dancing or alcohol or laughs with his new friend helps him shake the uneasy feeling that manifests in the pit of his stomach every time he thinks back to Minho.

They leave the dancefloor eventually, spent, and Ryujin's friend summons her. It's the blonde one―the brunette is nowhere to be seen, and Jisung's heart sinks when he glances over at their table and sees Minho is gone, too.

"Hey, I've gotta go," Ryujin tells him, "but you're really cool. Wanna hang out sometime? Maybe I can, I dunno, put in a good word for you with my straight friends or something."

Jisung doesn't even want to think about why that thought doesn't excite him in the slightest. Being Ryujin's friend does though, and he happily exchanges numbers with her and says goodbye before approaching Seungmin, still chatting with his friend.

"Hey," Jisung gets his attention, "where's Minho?"

"Oh, I think he took one of those girls home," Seungmin says nonchalantly. Jisung's blood turns cold.

So he got lucky after all.

This is... good. This is what Jisung wanted. This is the answer to Minho's problem. 

So why does he feel nauseous all of a sudden?

"Oh," Jisung breathes. "Okay. I think I'm gonna... get an Uber. Drank too much or something."

"Are you sure?" Seungmin glances at his friend, then stands, pulling Jisung aside gently. "Jisung, your jealousy hasn't exactly been subtle tonight. Do you... maybe wanna talk about it?"

"No." Jisung shakes his head quickly, dizzyingly. "No, I'm okay. I'm not―I'm not jealous. I got that girl's number, did you see her?"

"I know Ryujin." Seungmin gives him a sympathetic smile. "I already know she's gay, too, so don't waste your breath."

"Okay, so she is. So what?"

Seungmin purses his lips, scanning Jisung's face. "I'm here if you want to talk. I won't judge."

Jisung feels tears prick at the back of his eyes. He's already so confused, and now Seungmin is acting like he knows more about what's going on in Jisung's head than he himself does. Jisung shrugs him off, maybe a tad too aggressively. "I just want to go back and get in bed."

"Okay," Seungmin relents. "I'll let Changbin know."

Jisung turns to leave, but feeling guilty, he turns back around to offer a forced smile. "Thanks, man." Seungmin nods, and Jisung exits and pulls out his phone to request an Uber, shivering a bit in the cool night air.

His steps are heavy as he trudges up to his dorm, and all he's thought about since parting ways with Ryujin is _Minho, Minho, Minho._

He lets himself in, returning much earlier than he'd intended, _alone._ _Don't wait up,_ he'd said. Ha. Jeongin probably isn't even asleep yet, but he doesn't want to attract any attention, so he creeps in quietly, making a beeline for his bed and flopping down on it, fully dressed save for his boots, and stares at the ceiling.

Why's he so goddamn bent out of shape? Yeah, he's jealous that Minho got attention from girls and he didn't. _Yes,_ he's jealous that Minho went home with a girl. He thinks anyone in his position would be, when he's been trying to get a girlfriend or at least get laid for so long, and Minho swoops in and does so without even trying or _wanting_ to be there.

It's so unfair.

But he can't help but feel like his jealousy runs too deep. A good friend would be happy for Minho, especially when he's in danger of becoming a sick, perverted criminal or something if his horniness goes unchecked. Jisung can't even find it in himself to be truly happy for Minho though, even if it _does_ end up solving his problems. Even if they don't have to fool around anymore, and Jisung won't have to worry about the state of their friendship.

It'll be up to _that girl_ to take care of Minho now, to feel his soft skin against hers, his plush lips, his gentle touches, his sweet sounds. Jisung wonders if she's already peeled off those sinfully tight leather pants, kissed his pretty collarbones, run her hands through his soft hair, tasted that _fucking lip gloss._

 _Fuck,_ Minho looked so good tonight. Jisung lets his eyes flutter shut and rolls onto his back, his hand sliding down his torso as heat pools in his stomach. He wonders what would've happened if neither of them managed to leave with a girl. Would they end up fucking around again to let off some steam? He rubs his palm over his crotch, letting out a shaky sigh.

Would Minho wrap his shiny lips around him? Would the gloss feel good on his cock? Jisung whimpers softly, slipping his hand in his boxers to curl around his hardening dick, the image of Minho looking up at him through his lashes with his mouth full flashing in his mind.

_Click._

Jisung yells, eyes flying open, the sound of his door being opened snapping him out of his reverie. He yanks the covers over his crotch, mortified and wide-eyed as he looks to the door and sees―

...Minho?

With a full fucking meter, no less! Jisung relaxes at the sight (only slightly, because he _did_ just get caught masturbating), relief filling his senses.

Wait. Why is he relieved? This isn't what was supposed to happen. _Fuck._

Minho blinks at him owlishly, cheeks turning pink as he definitely realizes what he just walked in on.

"Hyung?" Jisung chokes out, voice cracking. "What are you doing here?"

"I―I, um," Minho stammers, gaze darting around his room while his hand fidgets with the doorknob. "I was in Jeongin's room."

"In _Jeongin's_ room?" Jisung is becoming more confused by the second. "The fuck were you doing in Jeongin's room? Seungmin told me you took that girl home."

"I did. She didn't feel well, and she didn't want to bother her friends, so I offered since I wanted to leave anyway." He shifts from foot to foot. "She lives in this dorm, so I stopped by... I didn't realize you were back already."

 _She didn't feel well._ He didn't take her home to fuck her, he took her home because she didn't _feel well._ Seungmin definitely could have mentioned that, Jisung thinks, and he'd have despaired a whole lot less in the past twenty minutes or so, but maybe his friend didn't know and assumed the same as Jisung had.

"Then what are you doing in here?" Jisung asks, laughing shallowly, still very much hard under the blanket.

"I was gonna steal a pair of sweatpants so I didn't have to walk back in these," he says. He meets Jisung's eye, chewing the inside of his cheek before taking a hesitant step into his room, shutting and locking the door behind him. "But since I'm here..."

Jisung's heart hammers in his chest as Minho approaches, but he doesn't even think about stopping him. Rather, every fiber of his being screams for him to _come closer_ until Minho perches on the edge of his bed, eyeshadow shimmering in the moonlight that streams through Jisung's window. Jisung doesn't move a muscle, doesn't even breathe as Minho's hand slides over the mattress towards him.

"Maybe I can help you with that?" he finishes. Jisung doesn't take a moment to think before he's nodding wordlessly, nudging the blanket off of his lap and exposing himself to the cool air of his bedroom. Minho's meter jolts as he moves to touch him, but his hand stops short, landing on Jisung's thigh.

"What happened to that girl you were with?" Minho asks, not meeting his eye.

"She was a lesbian," Jisung admits.

"Oh." Minho blinks up at him, eyebrows raised. "Wow, uh. Sorry."

"No, it's okay, I knew," Jisung chuckles. "I still had fun with her though."

Minho hums, a small smile gracing his lips. "That makes one of us."

"Did you hate it that much?" Jisung asks, giggling when Minho gives him a pointed look.

"The highlight of my night was a strawberry daiquiri," he says, scoffing. Finally, he wraps a tentative hand around Jisung's dick, stroking slowly. "Up until now, anyway."

Jisung's eyes widen, heat flooding his cheeks and heart beating frantically against his ribcage. _What the fuck?_

If Minho hated the attention of attractive horny girls _that much,_ Jisung is going to have a hell of a time trying to get him a girlfriend. And even when he thought Minho had managed to take a girl home, he felt like shit...

"Do you wanna keep doing this until we get girlfriends?" Jisung blurts.

Minho looks up at him in surprise, his hand freezing in its place. Jisung snaps his mouth shut in horror. _Oh God._

They've never really _talked_ about this at length after establishing that it wouldn't ruin their friendship. It happened, it happened again, and _again,_ and they teased each other a bit, and that was it. There were no discussions of the arrangement, how long it would last, nothing. In fact, it couldn't even properly be called an _arrangement_ as much as it was just something that kept happening coincidentally. 

They're both horny bastards, and they spend so much time together, perhaps it was bound to happen from the start, whether Jisung obtained this stupid power or not.

And now Jisung is asking for _more._ Has he lost his mind?

If he has, Minho is right behind him.

He tightens his hold around Jisung, pumping him harder as he nods wordlessly.

"O-Okay," Jisung gasps, mind fuzzy with pleasure and the inability to process what he'd just done.

"Can I suck your dick?" Minho asks quietly. Jisung nods.

The last three times they've messed around, it's been the same. Jisung would go into it with the intentions to relieve _Minho,_ and then Minho would ask to suck his dick, always eager to take care of Jisung first.

To be fair, he seems to enjoy it.

"Hyung," Jisung gasps, tightening his hold in Minho's hair while he licks up Jisung's shaft, on his knees beside Jisung's bed. "H-Hey, hyung."

Minho pulls back. "Hm?"

Jisung wets his lips. It's embarrassing, it's _so_ embarrassing, but he can't stop fucking thinking about it. "Do you―uh, have any more of that lip gloss?"

Minho blinks up at him for a moment before his lips curl into a grin, his hand digging into the pocket of his leather pants he'd discarded just moments ago, complaining about their tightness. (Jisung thought they looked incredible, but he's not going to complain about Minho's legs on display, either.)

He holds up a tube of light pink gloss, rolling it between his fingers. "This?" Jisung nods, and Minho tilts his head. "What about it?"

Jisung feels his cheeks burn, regretting opening his mouth. How does he ask Minho to put some more on without sounding like a freak?

He has a feeling Minho knows exactly what he wants, and the older is looking far too smug for his own good. Maybe Jisung should bring him down a notch.

"Your lips looked so pretty earlier," Jisung says. Minho clearly hadn't been expecting a straightforward answer, as his eyes widen at the comment. "I wanted to know what they'd feel like on my dick."

"Jesus, Jisung," he mumbles, ducking his head to unscrew the cap, meter jolting.

"You asked," Jisung responds, grinning as he traces a finger over Minho's red ear.

Minho shies away from his touch, shooting him a glare before bringing the applicator to his lips. He stares into Jisung's eyes as he takes his time spreading the shiny gloss across his full lips, finishing it off with a smack.

The tables are turned once again as Jisung's mind goes blank, blinking speechlessly as Minho leans in and presses a wet kiss to his tip that makes butterflies erupt in his stomach, the slight tackiness to the lip gloss feeling incredible against his skin. He slides his slick lips over the head, tantalizingly slow, and sinks down further. Jisung moans unabashedly, the visual alone making him feel like he could bust at any moment―until he remembers his roommate is in the other room and slaps a hand over his mouth.

Minho's eyebrows furrow as he reaches up to tug Jisung's hand away. He wonders if the sounds he makes are half as pretty as Minho's sound to him.

"I don't want Jeongin to hear," Jisung hisses.

"Then keep it down," Minho retorts, taking him into his pretty mouth again and bobbing his head.

"Minho," he whines quietly, running a hand through his waves and grabbing the hair at the back of his head with a gasp when his dick hits the back of his throat and Minho fucking _swallows_ around him. That's new. "Oh, _fuck,_ I'm gonna―"

Minho pulls off before he gets the chance, and Jisung bites back a whine.

Tries to, anyway.

"Why'd you stop?" he whines.

"I was thinking..." Minho starts, chewing at his lip. Uh-oh. Did he change his mind about all this? "If we're gonna keep doing this... should we go all the way?"

"A-All the way?" Jisung splutters. "You mean―you mean, like..."

Minho rises to his feet, pushing Jisung back on the bed until he's flat on his back, breathless as Minho climbs into his lap and straddles him, his length nudging against Jisung's through his underwear. Jisung's hands find their way to Minho's thighs as he thinks back to their first night they did anything like this, and his cock twitches.

"Would you fuck me?" Minho asks, blinking at him far too innocently for the question he'd just asked.

And then it sinks in.

Jisung's mouth falls open, failing to produce words, which is probably for the best. If it could, it would be along the lines of _y-y-you want me to_ what?

 _Would_ he fuck him? Would he lose his virginity to his best friend, and take his in turn? Jisung's pretty sure the concept of _virginity_ isn't much of anything special to either of them, and even if it were, who better to lose it with than someone you love and trust? 

Even if they don't love each other in _that_ way.

Jisung nods. "If you want that."

Minho lets out a frustrated huff. "Do _you_ want it?"

Jisung slides his hands up towards Minho's hips, glancing down at his gorgeous thighs, his bulge, and his mind drifts to what Minho might look like sitting on his cock, or lying beneath him, taking it, and feels a fresh wave of arousal rush through his veins. His brain supplies him with an idea of what pretty sounds he might make, how it'd feel to be _inside him,_ and he gets even more worked up.

If the mere thought of it gets him going like that, how could he pass up an opportunity to experience it?

"Yes," Jisung admits quietly, nodding. "Yeah, I want it, too."

Minho's lips part in surprise, as if he's anything but irresistible. "Really?"

"Yeah," Jisung laughs softly, cupping a hand over Minho's bulge and squeezing lightly. Minho's head lolls to the side, a soft sigh escaping his pretty swollen lips before he sucks his lower lip between his teeth.

"Do—Do you, um... have a condom?"

Jisung is so caught up in how cute Minho is, so shy despite being the one to suggest it in the first place, that it takes him a moment to register the weight of his question.

"Y-You meant _right now?"_ Jisung gawks. Minho sucks his lip between his teeth and peers at Jisung in a way that suggests that _yes,_ he means right now. "But Jeongin―"

"I can be quiet," Minho promises, eyes pleading as he rolls his hips over Jisung's cock, eliciting a groan.

Jisung wishes Minho's neediness wouldn't turn him on so much that the rational side of his brain doesn't stand a chance against him, but it does, and he's growing needier himself by the second with every filthy roll of Minho's hips.

"Fuck, hyung," Jisung breathes. "You want it that badly?"

Minho's flush darkens as he nods quickly.

Jisung swallows, recalling how quickly Minho had come after his last attempt at dirty talk. The ball is in his court now, and he intends to take advantage and rile Minho up some more while he can.

"You're that desperate for my cock?" Jisung whispers, fingers digging into the soft skin of Minho's hips as the older's eyes widen comically.

 _"Jisung!"_ he hisses, slapping his shoulder. Jisung can tell he's doing something right by the way Minho's meter jerks around, though, and his lips stretch into a shit-eating grin.

"What? You're the one who wants to fuck in front of Jeongin's poor virgin ears and you can't handle a little pillow talk?"

"What the hell do you know about pillow talk?" Minho grumbles.

"Enough to make you blush redder than a tomato," Jisung quips.

"It just caught me off guard!"

"Will it be better if I warn you? Here's your warning."

"Please―"

"You wanna sit on my cock, baby?"

Minho groans, hiding his face in his hands, but his meter betrays him by showing how affected he is. "I'm gonna rip your stupid fucking cock _off_ if you don't stop."

Jisung giggles uncontrollably, flustered by his own words. It may backfire a bit, but it's a small price to pay to see Minho so worked up. He doesn't know why he likes it so much―maybe because he seldom gets to see Minho like this, so shy and vulnerable.

"If it's so stupid then why―"

Minho glares and interrupts him by grinding down on him hard. Jisung sucks air between his teeth, grip tightening on Minho's hips as his hips twitch beneath his weight.

"Are we doing it or not?" he demands.

Jisung bites his lip. He _really_ doesn't want Jeongin to hear them, but he doesn't want to refuse Minho, either―doesn't know if he even _can._ Plus, he's already so worked up, he's sure he won't last long, and he can just finish Minho off with his mouth or hand if need be.

"Okay," he says. "Let me, uh, get the stuff." He pats Minho's thigh and the older slides off his lap to sit expectantly on his knees beside him. Jisung self-consciously reaches into his bedside drawer, under a folder of embarrassing lyrics, and retrieves a half-empty bottle of lube and a condom he'd stashed away sometime last year _just in case_ he managed to bring a girl back with him someday.

Minho is far from what he expected when he'd held onto the condom, but he's not sure if he's disappointed by the turn of events either, his stomach turning in anticipation.

"Um." Jisung sits back on his bed, lube and condom in hand. "So you're gonna, um... you know. Right?"

Minho's eyebrows raise, somehow having understood his question. "Bottom?"

"Yeah. That."

"You can ask me if I want to sit on your _cock_ but you can't say the word bottom?"

Heat spreads across Jisung's face. Okay, so maybe he deserves this.

"Shut up!" he wails. "It was in the heat of the moment."

Minho scoffs. "You have _no_ right to tease me. But, um..." He looks away, suddenly shy. "If that's okay, yeah. Unless you want _me_ to...?"

Jisung entertains the idea, and feels his skin grow warmer with the thought of Minho hovering over him, thrusting into him―but it scares him a little, too. He's never... well, frankly, he's never had the guts to try putting anything in his ass. Hell, he thought he was straight as an arrow just a week or so ago. And while he trusts Minho, and isn't opposed to maybe trying it out in the future since they're apparently going to keep this up (his stomach flutters at the thought), he'd rather not be on the receiving end. Not tonight.

The image he'd conjured of his cock buried inside Minho has already burned itself in his mind, and he's eager to see it become a reality.

"No, I'll do it," Jisung says. "If―If you're sure you're okay with it?"

"I'm more than okay with it." Minho smiles, taking the bottle of lube from his hand. He'd said something similar that night at the party, the first time they touched each other. It makes Jisung wonder.

Had he wanted these things to happen from the start? He must want them, now, if he's asking Jisung to fuck him.

But _why?_ How long has this pent-up desire been brewing? Does it even have anything to do with Jisung, or is he just an easy means to an end?

He shakes the thoughts from his head to give his attention to Minho, who's just popped the lube open and then stopped, hesitant.

"What's up?" Jisung asks.

Minho blinks, startled. "Oh, um... I was going to ask if you would―I mean, if you wanted to, um―actually, never mind, I can do it."

"Do what?" Jisung asks, staring as Minho slips out of his underwear, hard length springing free. He swallows thickly. "You have to, uh, be prepped, right?" He has limited knowledge pertaining to sex, let alone _anal_ sex, but he's pretty sure things would get ugly fast if they skipped that step.

"Yeah," he answers. "Unless you wanna put me in the hospital."

Jisung wrinkles his nose. "That's not very sexy."

"Yeah," Minho chuckles.

"So were you gonna ask if I would do it?"

Minho's blush deepens. "You don't have to," he rushes out. "I've done it before, I can manage."

"You have?" Jisung gawks at him, quickly reigning it in when Minho shifts bashfully. What was Minho stretching himself for? He told Jisung that he'd only made it to third base. "Like, by yourself?"

"Yeah," Minho says.

Jisung lets out a puff of air. _That's good._

"I wanna try," he blurts.

"Oh." Minho's meter jumps for joy as he calmly passes him the lube. "How should we do this?"

"Um..." Jisung glances around the bed thoughtfully, coming up blank. "I dunno. Whatever you think would be most comfortable?"

Minho worries his lip between his teeth, slowly dragging a pillow towards the center of the bed and lying down, his tailbone on top of the pillow lifting his ass a little higher for easier access. His ears are a brilliant red as he asks, "Is this okay?"

Jisung nods, positioning himself between Minho's legs as the older pulls them to his chest to get them out of the way.

"This is fucking embarrassing," he mumbles.

"Having second thoughts?" Jisung laughs breathlessly, nerves making his head a jumbled mess as he squirts lube onto his fingers.

A beat passes before Minho responds with a soft "No." Jisung's heart hammers in his chest, his hand hovering hesitantly around Minho's entrance.

"I cleaned myself earlier," Minho speaks up suddenly just as Jisung presses a careful finger against his rim, "so you don't have to worry about that."

 _Oh._ That's good. Jisung hadn't even really thought about―

Wait. Minho cleaned up? In preparation for _this?_

"You did?" Jisung asks incredulously. They were supposed to go home with _girls_ tonight. The thought of Minho preparing himself with Jisung in mind instead makes his head spin with confusion―and a little bit of smugness. "For me?" he teases, gently easing a finger in, cock twitching at the feeling of Minho's tight hole sucking him in.

Minho's eyes widen in horror as if he'd just realized the gravity of what he'd said. He purses his lips, refusing to answer.

"Hmm?" Jisung teases, slipping his finger in further. "Did you _plan_ this?"

"No!" Minho denies hastily. "I just... ugh." His head falls back on the pillows, voice slightly muffled by the arm thrown over his face. "I just thought, maybe, if things didn't go well at the club tonight..."

"You'd _seduce_ me?" Jisung breathes out another disbelieving laugh.

"It worked, didn't it?" Minho peeks out from under his arm to smirk at Jisung, making his stomach flip-flop.

"It appears so," Jisung mumbles, averting his gaze to focus on thrusting his finger in slowly.

"You can add another," Minho says quietly.

"Oh. Okay."

Jisung slips in his middle finger next, anxiously peering up at Minho's face to search for signs of discomfort as he pushes them in. There's a crease between Minho's eyebrows, but Jisung isn't sure if it's from pain or pleasure.

"You okay?" he checks.

"Yeah," Minho answers. "You can, uh, spread them apart a little. Slowly."

Jisung nods and catches his lip between his teeth, focusing as he carefully makes a scissoring motion. "Like this?" Minho hisses, but he nods quickly, so Jisung continues.

He stares, enraptured by the way the tight ring of muscle flutters as he works it open, resisting against his fingers. "Am I going to fit in here?" he wonders aloud.

Minho huffs a laugh. "You're not _that_ big." Jisung glances up at him, unsure if he's being insulted or complimented― _"that_ big" implies that he's a _little_ bit big, right? Minho seems to pick up on it, quickly clarifying. "I mean―well, okay, you're big. But it'll be fine as long as I'm stretched well enough."

"If you say so," Jisung says, heat flaring under his skin at the ego boost. Still, he worries a little, finding it hard to imagine how this experience will be pleasurable for Minho _or_ imagine himself lasting longer than five seconds once he's inside.

Come to think of it, isn't there some sort of male G-spot around here somewhere?

Jisung prods around inconspicuously, curious but cautious, until his fingers brush against something that feels a little different from the rest of Minho's walls. He knows he's found what he'd been looking for by the way Minho whimpers high in his throat, back arching off the bed as he fists the sheets.

Jisung crooks his fingers upwards and thrusts them in again, brushing against the sensitive nerves inside him, and his breath catches when Minho lets out another pretty moan, squirming at his touch.

"Feel good?" Jisung asks, winded from the intense reaction he'd gotten from a few timid touches.

"Yes, _fuck_ ―" Minho and his meter alike are going insane at Jisung's touch, writhing and mewling with every slide of his fingers. "S-Slow down," he pleads. Jisung obliges, casting him a concerned glance. "I'm okay. Add another."

"You sure?"

"Yes," he groans. _"Please."_

"Okay, okay," Jisung whispers, rubbing soothing circles on his thigh. "Tell me if it's too much, okay, baby?"

The pet name slips past his lips with little thought; it had just felt right to say. Minho doesn't seem to mind, face red as he nods. Jisung tries not to dwell as he eases his ring finger in beside the other two, checking for Minho's reaction and seeing his nose twitch at the intrusion.

"Still okay?"

"Yeah," Minho says, wiggling his hips encouragingly after a moment of adjustment. Jisung pushes in carefully, brushing them against the nerves to help ease any potential pain with pleasure over and over until Minho is a whimpering mess again, biting down on his knuckle to muffle his sounds. Jisung had nearly forgotten that they were supposed to be quiet, but he can't bring himself to try and quiet Minho down either, not when every pretty sound goes straight to his dick.

"O-Okay, okay," Minho pants, stopping Jisung's weary wrist with a gentle hand. "I think I'm good."

"You sure?" Jisung asks again, his stomach fluttering with nerves.

"Yeah." Minho nods, sitting up and reaching for the condom packet. He rips it open, gesturing for Jisung to come closer, the younger flushing as he realizes what's about to happen.

Minho examines it for a moment before rolling it over Jisung's dick, still hard from his time spent working Minho open that he'd enjoyed more than he anticipated. Once the condom is on, Minho strokes him a few times, looking him in the eye, _too_ close. "How should we do this?"

"I―I dunno," Jisung stammers, and Minho frowns. "What? Don't ask me! You're the one who _planned_ this―"

"I didn't plan it!" Minho retorts, huffing as he grabs for the lube, red-eared.

"You did," Jisung argues playfully to ease their nerves. "You planned this all out and you didn't even have a _position_ in mind?"

"Shut up." Minho gives him a glare intended to be threatening, but he just looks _cute,_ and maybe a little sexy (okay, definitely sexy) in nothing but his button-down black shirt. He looks amazing in it, but Jisung thinks he might look better without, so he boldly reaches forward, undoing the buttons. Minho looks down, blinking in surprise as Jisung finishes up and pushes it off his shoulders.

"Okay," he says, dropping the lube to shrug his shirt off and toss it aside, a smile pulling at his lips as he reaches for Jisung's buttons. "You too."

Jisung swallows down the lump in his throat once his shirt is discarded and Minho's eyes rove over his torso, his hand following closely behind, blazing a burning trail towards his needy cock. He pours some lube into his palm and curls his hand around Jisung, the younger letting out a shaky breath as his length is coated in lube.

"Are you nervous?" Minho asks softly.

Jisung opens his mouth to deny it, but he snaps it shut and nods instead.

"Me too," Minho admits. "But I trust you."

Jisung's heart swells to twice its size as he gazes into Minho's eyes, shining back at him with so much trust, fondness, so open and _vulnerable_. Minho, who has always felt so distant, so far from reach, baring himself to Jisung in more ways than one.

Jisung feels like he could get high off this feeling.

"You too," he breathes. Minho smiles and takes his hand, falling back onto the sheets and yanking Jisung down with him. He giggles as Jisung practically falls on top of him, scrambling to get back on his knees. His head feels fuzzy from the sight of Minho laid out beneath him, his for the taking.

"You wanna do it like this?" Jisung asks, voice quiet like the moment might shatter and come crashing down around them if he dares to speak too loud.

Minho nods. "If it's okay."

"Of course."

Jisung reaches for the lube again and applies some more―better safe than sorry―before lining himself up. He decides to give Minho's dick some attention with his lubed up hand first, the older's eyes fluttering shut with a hum as he's finally touched.

"I'm ready, Jisungie," he tells him.

"Okay," Jisung whispers, using his hand to guide his dick to Minho's entrance. "Tell me if it hurts, okay?" Minho nods quickly, and Jisung finally stops stalling, easing his tip past Minho's rim. Minho's fingers latch onto Jisung's arms with a death grip, but he doesn't stop him, eyes screwed shut and mouth falling open.

"Oh, Jesus," Jisung groans, slowly pushing in further before stopping to let both of their bodies catch up with the overwhelming feeling. "Fucking _tight._ You okay? Does it hurt?"

"Stop worrying about me," Minho chides. "I can take it."

All Jisung's been _doing_ lately is worrying about him. How is he going to stop now, when Minho's put so much of himself in his hands? He feels more responsible for him than ever.

"I don't wanna hurt you," is what leaves his mouth instead, a pout forming on his lips.

Minho rolls his eyes, but a smile passes over his lips. "I promise I'll be fine," he says, and then he hooks his ankles behind Jisung's back and pulls him closer, driving him in deeper.

"Shit," Jisung hisses, hanging his head as Minho guides him in until he's buried to the hilt, flush against the backs of his thighs. He'd mostly been taking things slow for Minho's sake, since _he's_ the priority here, but it had definitely benefited Jisung, too. He isn't sure how long he can last when Minho feels _this_ good around him.

Minho quirks an eyebrow. "Are _you_ okay?"

"I'm fine," Jisung says too quickly. "Just... feels good."

"Yeah," Minho agrees. A few beats pass. "Are you going to fuck me?" he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Jisung meets his grin with a half-hearted glare. "Do you _want_ me to come in two seconds?"

Minho shrugs. "We can just go again."

"Oh my God," Jisung murmurs, heat rushing to his face. He's going to die right here, balls-deep inside his best friend.

"What?" Minho's grin stretches wider. "Where'd all that confidence from earlier go?" he purrs, hands running along Jisung's biceps and making goosebumps rise in their wake.

"That wasn't confidence," he whines. "I was bluffing and you know it."

"So bluff some more," Minho says simply.

"You like my shitty dirty talk that much?" Jisung grins.

"I didn't say I _liked_ it―"

"Who's bluffing now?"

"I'm not. You're gross."

"You sure don't think my dick is gross."

Jisung smirks as Minho gapes at him, before his expression morphs into something sinister. "No, I don't," he says. "I _love_ your cock. Wanted you to fuck me with it since I first saw it."

Jisung's eyebrows fly to his hairline, and he nearly chokes on his spit. Did he hear that correctly?

Minho's lips purse the way they do when he's trying to hold in laughter, and Jisung lightly slaps his shoulder. "Shut _up,"_ he whines, embarrassed as Minho bursts into giggles. His laughter is contagious though, and Jisung finds himself joining in. He doesn't know if he's going crazy from nerves or what, but they can't seem to stop. It's like when they're losing it over an inside joke in class, the fact that they shouldn't be laughing making it only _funnier._

It's familiar and it's uncharted territory all at once, and as Jisung gazes down at Minho, eyes crinkled into crescents, airy giggles leaving his pretty lips, it strikes him that he doesn't think he'd rather lose his virginity with anyone else.

Girls are pretty, and soft, and sexy, and Jisung likes their long hair and dips and curves. But Minho is pretty and sexy and soft, too, and he may not have long hair or huge tits (in the classical sense), but his eyes hold galaxies within them, and his goofy laughter is music to Jisung's ears. Minho makes him feel warm and comfortable and _safer_ than anyone else could.

He doesn't think anything with some girl he barely knows could compare.

"I meant it, you know," Minho says once their laughter starts to die down, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he reaches his arms up, connecting his hands behind Jisung's neck.

Jisung's heart stutters, startled by the sudden confession. "You did?"

"Mhm," he hums, rolling his hips. "Move, please?"

Jisung has had plenty of time to collect himself enough to not bust instantly, so he obliges Minho, hands on his waist as he pulls out halfway and slowly pushes back in. He has to stifle a moan―Minho is still so _tight_ around him. He builds up a rhythm that's torturously slow, but it's the only way he can ensure he won't come too soon. He doesn't want that, whether they have it in them to go for a second round as Minho had suggested or not.

He actually... kind of wants this to last?

Minho slips a shaky hand down to where Jisung's rests on his waist, sliding it underneath and intertwining their fingers. Jisung's stomach flutters at the gesture, squeezing his hand with a smile before gently pinning it on the mattress by his head. His other hand is latched onto the supple flesh of the underside of Minho's thigh, pushing it towards his chest while he snaps his hips into him faster.

"Oh fuck," Minho whispers, eyes rolling back. He keeps his earlier promise of being quiet, only soft mewls and whispered expletives from the both of them filling the air. The quiet isn't something Jisung would have associated with sex before, obnoxiously loud actors being his only point of reference, but it somehow makes it more tender, more intimate, more erotic. Jisung is hyper-aware of every trembling breath that leaves Minho's lips, every soft cry, every creak of the bed as Jisung fucks into him again and again, skin slapping against skin.

"Jisung, Jisung," Minho chants like a breathless prayer, his hand flying to his cock to pump himself in time with Jisung's thrusts as his moans increase in pitch, volume, and desperation.

"You close?" Jisung pants. Minho nods frantically in response, the hand held in Jisung's squeezing him so hard it hurts. Jisung barely registers the pain over the pleasure he feels as he chases their orgasms, his thrusts becoming more erratic by the second as he tries to angle them upwards and hit that sweet spot again.

Minho's back arches off the bed as he gasps, clenching around Jisung. A strangled moan follows and his stomach is painted in strings of white.

Minho's face wrought with pleasure—furrowed brow, eyes closed, cheeks pink, lips parted and still glistening with a bit of leftover gloss—is what ultimately does Jisung in. Satisfied now that Minho is taken care of, he snaps his hips in a final time and feels an insanely powerful climax wrack through his body. 

_"Fuck."_ Jisung's brain is on autopilot as he keeps weakly thrusting, riding out their orgasms and burying his face in the crook of Minho's neck. 

Minho reaches up with his free hand to pet Jisung's hair, the other still entwined with his. "I knew you could last more than two seconds."

Jisung chuckles weakly. It wasn't any _two seconds_ but it certainly didn't last very long, either. Not to say that it was _disappointing_ in the slightest; Jisung's positive he's never come that hard, but he would have loved to keep going, keep making Minho feel good.

He picks himself up intending to respond, but he freezes and the words die on his tongue when he realizes how close his face is to Minho's. It would be so easy, _too_ easy to close the gap between them and find out how that gloss feels on his own lips. Minho stares back at him, eyes searching. 

Jisung remembers to breathe, and he pulls away before he can do something stupid and reckless. He carefully slides out of Minho, peeling the condom off and dropping it in the trash before rummaging around in his drawer for some tissues, too lazy to make the trip to the bathroom for a towel. With a gentle hand, he wipes up the mess on Minho's stomach, shooing his hands away every time he tries to take over. 

Finally, he flops down beside Minho, spent. 

"Was it okay for you?" Minho's voice breaks the silence.

"Of course. It was—um, kind of amazing," Jisung admits, turning to study the older's profile as he stares up at the ceiling, lips quirking into a smile at Jisung's words. Jisung wonders what he's thinking. If he regrets it, if it was anything like what he'd hoped for. "What about you? Was I—er, was _it_ good? For you?"

Minho's head turns to meet his eye, smiling, and then his body follows the motion, turning on his side as he reaches up to brush Jisung's bangs back. "Yes. You were very good for me," he giggles. 

Jisung swears he feels flames erupt beneath his skin.

Minho raises his eyebrows and tilts his head in interest, apparently taking notice of the effect it had on the younger. "You like that?" he asks, a tinge of amusement in his eyes. 

Jisung doesn't know if he's just teasing him or not—something tells him that he is, but Jisung can't deny the way the words strike a chord within him unlike anything he's ever experienced and send a fresh wave of arousal through his body. 

He half wants to hide his burning face in his hands, maybe burrow himself into the covers and refuse to come out until Minho is gone or at least partially clothed, but honestly, what does he have to lose? They've just _had sex,_ for crying out loud. If Minho wants to make fun of him for liking it, he can take it up with his apparent affinity for Jisung's cheesy dirty talk. 

So, he nods. Minho's eyes widen and Jisung watches his meter rise again, ever restless, but if Jisung had one himself, it would surely be filling up all over again right along with Minho's. 

The horny bastard is rubbing off on him.

Minho's hand slides down, down, over Jisung's chest to dance around his abs. "Think you can be good for me one more time?" he asks, running a finger along Jisung's cock and making him shudder.

Jisung pulls his lip between his teeth. "I have more condoms," he blurts.

Minho beams, and then he's up in an instant, swinging his leg over Jisung's lap and straddling him, gazing down at him hungrily. 

Jisung lets his scorching touch consume him again.

☆彡


	4. Chapter 4

It's Jisung's first day of high school, and he's scared shitless.

He's been on edge all summer, jittery and anxious about how he would be received amongst his peers. He and his family had just moved into town a few months ago, far from their last home, so he's going into this all alone, not recognizing a single soul in the bustling halls or suffocatingly full classrooms.

Jisung had been so worried about making a good first impression, wearing his coolest clothes and styling his hair with his big brother's gel. He'd entertained all sorts of scenarios, ones where he made tons of friends on the first day, less pleasant ones where he got made fun of, shoved in a locker or even a nasty toilet like the kids in the movies.

None of the above happened, but Jisung is pretty sure he'd take _anything_ over the way he goes completely unseen, like a ghost haunting the halls.

Well, maybe not having his head shoved in a toilet. He's grateful _that_ hasn't happened―not yet, at least. There's still time. But with the way everyone seems to look right through him, he's not sure he's a viable candidate.

They seem to have a lot of interest in the handsome student that transfers a few weeks into the school year, though.

Jisung has managed to go this long without making a single friend or even proper acquaintance, his interactions with his classmates never going beyond borrowing a pen or lending a piece of paper in hopes that they would magically become his friend. He's learned some of their names, though, like the stupid, popular, pretty boy Hyunjin.

"He's so cold," Hyunjin is saying to his friends as they eat up every word. "He's like a robot. So serious and quiet."

Jisung scoffs. What the hell does Hyunjin know? He glances over to where the transfer student stands, blank-faced as a teacher piles textbooks into his arms. The teacher says something to him with a friendly smile, and all the student offers in return is a curt nod.

Okay, so maybe Hyunjin had a point.

Jisung wonders if the transfer student will have trouble making friends, too. Maybe Jisung could have reached out if they were in the same class...

By the time lunch comes around, Jisung has mostly forgotten about him―rather, he _could_ have, if the students had literally anything else to talk about other than how cold and unfriendly the student (Minho, he'd learned) seemed. Jisung wonders if any of them actually took the time to talk to him.

He'd also wondered if Minho might like someone to sit with him at lunch, and since Jisung sits alone, he had intended to offer. He hadn't spotted the boy when he scanned the cafeteria though, and ended up giving up and sitting down to eat his tuna sandwich in silence before he made himself look dumb.

It's near the end of lunch when a voice yanks Jisung from his thoughts, making him whirl around in his seat and see _Minho_ staring right back at him expectantly.

"S-Sorry, what?" Jisung splutters nervously.

"Are you going to finish that?" Minho asks.

Jisung glances at the remains of his sandwich, bewildered. Well, he was _going_ _to,_ but it's not like he's starving, so he simply shakes his head. "Did you not eat?" he asks.

"I did," Minho says. Jisung blinks.

"Okay..." Jisung says slowly, handing over the last few bites of his precious sandwich. "I-I'm not that hungry, so go ahead."

Honestly, he's a little scared. Minho is kind of scary. What if he beats people up and takes their lunch money? Or their mostly-eaten tuna sandwiches? He doesn't look particularly unkind, just a little standoffish. But he _does_ look pretty strong... He could definitely kick Jisung's ass if he wanted. And who knows if he wants to?

"Do you like cats?" Minho asks, taking the sandwich. Jisung nods, only slightly terrified. "Come with me."

He starts to set off, gesturing for Jisung to follow. Jisung scrambles to his feet, balls up his trash, and trails after him, his head a jumbled mess of confusion and maybe a little bit of panic. His hands feel clammy as Minho leads him outside. Is he about to get beat up? None of this makes any sense―

Until it does. Minho crouches down and Jisung hears a loud _meow._

The tension and unease in Jisung's muscles quickly dissipates when he sees a young tabby cat trot up to Minho, rubbing against his leg. _Duh._ No wonder he asked if Jisung likes cats―but, hey, Jisung doesn't think anyone can blame him for being cautious. That _was_ pretty weird.

Minho runs a hand along the kitten's back, cooing. Jisung catches sight of his smile, and _wow,_ even just from the side it's so... _pretty,_ so full of warmth. Minho looks up, startling Jisung with his suddenly bright eyes.

"You wanna give it to her?" he asks, holding out the sandwich.

"Oh, uh." Jisung hesitates. "Will she let me?"

Minho nods. "She's friendly." The kitten has definitely realized what's in his hands by now, and is letting out shrill, demanding meows. Minho giggles, and the sound is so cute that Jisung finds it hard to grasp that this is the same boy who has landed himself such a negative reputation for being cold.

Jisung agrees and takes his sandwich back, unfolding it and holding it out to the kitten who laps the tuna up ravenously. "Wow," he laughs, "she's hungry."

"Yeah," Minho says. "I gave her some of the meat from my sandwich, but she was still starving." He frowns, scratching at the base of her tail. "I'll bring some cat food with me tomorrow."

They watch as she devours the rest of the sandwich, Minho instructing Jisung to pull away periodically to make sure she actually chews. Once she's finished every crumb (including the ones that fell on the ground), she weaves between Jisung's legs, rubbing against him. He giggles, scratching her bony back.

"She likes you," Minho says, smiling. Wow, now that Jisung is close enough to look at him properly, Minho's eyes are really pretty. They shine with something that makes Jisung wonder if maybe the cat isn't the only one that's taken a liking to him.

Before he can think of anything to say, the bell rings, signifying the end of lunch and successfully bursting the bubble that had formed around him, Minho, and the cute stray who is now sitting back, licking her chops and cleaning her face with a practiced paw. Jisung's heart sinks a bit. He really wanted to spend some time getting to know Minho, gauge whether he wants to maybe, possibly be his friend or not.

"Shit." Minho quickly rises to his feet. "I'm supposed to be somewhere. Wanna meet here tomorrow?"

"O-Oh, yeah, sure!" Jisung agrees, beyond delighted.

"Okay." Minho bends down to scratch the cat's head. "Bye, Dori." Jisung is about to question the name, but he falters when Minho straightens up and pats _his_ head next. "Bye, tuna kid."

Jisung feels his cheeks warm inexplicably. "I-It's Jisung."

"Okay. Bye, Jisung."

Jisung and Minho met up outside with Dori every weekday for weeks until they got caught and forbidden from doing it again. Minho worried about Dori so much he eventually just smuggled her home with his two other cats, and his parents let her stay.

Somewhere through it all, Minho and Jisung became inseparable.

It wasn't lost on Jisung how closed-off and guarded Minho has always been, especially when he himself is so open. He never minded it though, and with every glimpse into Minho's life Jisung just found himself liking him more and more, until he became someone Jisung could trust more than anyone else, someone he could consider his best friend.

The sentiment holds true until today, which is what landed them in the position they're in now.

To be more specific, the position that involves Jisung on his back, practically folded in half. His calves rest on Minho's shoulders, body rocking against the mattress as Minho fucks him.

"Oh God, hyung, _fuck_ ―" he whimpers, tears threatening to form at the overwhelming pleasure he feels, Minho brushing against his prostate with every thrust, his hand tight around Jisung's cock.

It had taken about a week of them fucking for Jisung to decide he ought to try bottoming. He was nervous, but Minho was so gentle, so patient, made it as good for Jisung as he possibly could. And it _was_ good. All it took was one mind-blowing prostate orgasm for Jisung to realize that yeah, he could get used to this.

And now he has. They switch it up frequently, keeping each other on their toes while they figure out what they like. Jisung is more open in this aspect, like most others, telling Minho little things he'd like to try. Minho is harder to tackle, harder to read, so Jisung is a bit more experimental, having to rely on Minho's reactions and, if he has to, his gauge.

Jisung has been trying to look at the gauge less, actually. He can't stop thinking lately that he should know Minho so much better than he does. He's practically Jisung's other half; how can Jisung call himself his best friend if he needs some weird power just to understand him?

So Jisung pays more attention―to the slightest changes in his expression, his body language, his words, what goes left unsaid. Not just in bed, but in their everyday lives, too. He likes to think he's made some pretty good progress in understanding his friend better.

There are still some things that stump him though. When Minho looks at him like _this_ , for example.

His eyes are dark and heavy with desire, flush spreading down to his neck, lips still swollen from being around Jisung. Jisung is used to this blissed out expression on Minho's face by now, even though it still makes his heart flutter every time. There's something else, too, something in Minho's eyes, something on the tip of his tongue as his eyes bore into Jisung's, pleading.

"Jisung," he whispers, his rhythm faltering as he dips down. Jisung's legs slide off the sides of Minho's shoulders as his face gets closer, Jisung's breath stuttering at the proximity, and oh.

Minho is going to kiss him.

Jisung isn't going to stop him.

His lips barely brush against Jisung's, warm and uncertain and so, so soft. It's not enough.

Jisung parts his lips and tilts his head to accommodate him. He grabs the back of Minho's neck with his hand, and he kisses him back eagerly enough to show them that this is okay, that he wants this, too. Maybe more than he realizes.

Minho, stilled inside Jisung, starts lazily thrusting into him again, slow and sensual. His plush lips part with a gasp and Jisung takes the initiative to slip his tongue in, run it along the backs of Minho's teeth. Minho moans softly, sliding his tongue against Jisung's and sucking it into his mouth until their lips are both messy with spit and then some.

Jisung has kissed people― _girls_ ―before, but it never felt like this.

He isn't surprised anymore how good everything feels with Minho, just worried about the implications.

Minho speeds up, fucking into Jisung harder until they're both unable to do much more than pants and moan in each other's mouths. His hand fists his cock hard and fast until Jisung's back arches, tossing his head back with a moan as he comes. He feels Minho's lips latch onto his neck, before his pretty lips gasp and whine against his skin as he finishes inside Jisung.

Jisung can't help himself―he grabs Minho's face and kisses him again while he weakly rides out his orgasm.

 _God,_ why hadn't they kissed sooner?

It's so intimate, and Jisung can't help but wonder even as he reconnects their lips if they're crossing a line here. But sex is incredibly intimate, too, and if they can remain normal friends after having their dicks in each other's asses, surely _this_ is fine.

Jisung hopes it's fine, because he doesn't want to stop.

They break away for air eventually, Minho resting his sweaty forehead on Jisung's.

"You taste like salsa," Minho breathes.

"Shut up!" Jisung chortles, slapping his shoulder. "You're the one who couldn't wait until I finished my snack to fuck."

"Whatever, brat." Minho pecks him on the nose, the gesture giving him butterflies, before pulling out and rolling off of him to throw the condom away. He grabs some tissues to clean Jisung up with before slipping on a pair of sweatpants and padding off to the bathroom (Jeongin isn't home, but Minho wouldn't be caught dead leaving Jisung's room naked either way).

Jisung can't stop thinking about the _damn kiss,_ and how much he wants to do it again, and what any of that means.

He assumes that they won't talk about it and that he'll be left to his own devices and overthink himself to madness.

Minho returns shortly, crawling back onto the bed and sliding his arms under Jisung's to wrap around his back.

"Nap?" Minho asks cutely, like he hadn't just held Jisung down and pounded his ass into the mattress. As expected, there's no mention of the kiss as Minho nuzzles into his neck, but Jisung isn't upset, just happy to have him close.

"Nap," Jisung agrees, winding his arms around Minho and squeezing him affectionately. He wonders if Minho can hear the way his heart pounds when his lips brush against Jisung's neck.

He'll worry about it later. He has a Minho to cuddle to sleep.

☆彡

**Minho  
** hey  
can we talk?

 **Jisung  
** yeah what's up?

 **Minho  
** like later  
in person

 **Jisung  
** oh  
um sure! when?

 **Minho  
** i'll be free around 4  
will you be in your dorm?

 **Jisung  
** aren't i always hahaha  
is everything ok? 

**Minho  
** yeah. sorry  
i knew it'd freak you out but i wanted to make sure you were free  
don't worry, it's nothing bad  
or at least i hope not;;;

 **Jisung  
** okay.. :s  
i'll try to take your word for it  
see you then

_Jeez, Minho. Way to make my anxiety skyrocket._

He said it was nothing bad, but the timing makes it impossible for Jisung not to worry when they'd just kissed for the first time yesterday. And they'd done it again when they woke up from their naps. And again, and _again,_ not even the excuse of sex between them as they made out, lazy and warm with the setting sun streaming through Jisung's blinds.

Honestly, it was fucking bliss. Maybe Minho didn't feel the same.

Had they taken it too far after all?

Or maybe... just far enough?

The possibility of Minho harboring feelings beyond sexual for Jisung has crossed his mind once or twice, filling his chest with a strange feeling that he doesn't dare try to name before he has substantial reason to believe that might be the case.

It's equally, if not _more_ plausible that Minho had decided he felt uncomfortable taking that extra step with Jisung. But he _had_ been the one to initiate it the first time, so Jisung lets his mind wander to brighter possibilities.

For all he knows, it may not be related to the kiss at all. Minho could have found someone. He could call this whole thing off. He could be preparing to lecture Jisung on missing too many classes. It could be anything.

All Jisung knows is that he is nervous out of his _mind._

If nothing else, at least he isn't alone in being in a weird place with his best friend.

Changbin has elected to torment Seungmin today, jacket draped over the back of his chair while his tight black shirt hugs every dip and curve of his torso. Seungmin's meter is consistently high, and Jisung keeps catching him eyeing Changbin's arms while they lounge in the sitting area in the main hall, just outside a mini-café. The walkway is flooded with students as classes let out, and Changbin has to raise his voice to be heard over the chatter as he recounts his disaster of a date from the night before. 

Seungmin seems... _off._

Jisung has been keeping a close watch on Seungmin after the single's night at that club―ever since he remembered, anyway. The fact that he fucked Minho was all that was on his mind for a while there, but once he recalled his suspicions about Seungmin, he couldn't stop noticing some rather peculiar behaviors from his friend.

There's the lust gauge, obviously, that goes mad every time Changbin wears something tight or flexes his muscles or, especially, when he playfully manhandles Seungmin or even just hugs him tight. There's also the blatant googly eyes he's always fixing Changbin with, and the fact that he takes just about any opportunity he can to tell Changbin he's cute. 

Jisung had never put much thought into it before, but paired with what he's learned from his power, he thinks it's probably safe to assume that Seungmin has feelings for Changbin rather than a purely sexual attraction to his muscles like he'd initially thought.

In regards to Seungmin's gauge going mad―it's been worrying Jisung lately. It's in nowhere near as bad a shape as Minho's, littered with cracks and threatening to burst, but it has been _concerningly_ full as of late. He's been meaning to talk to Seungmin about Changbin, maybe push him to confess, but it's been some time since Jisung and Seungmin have been alone together for more than a few minutes.

See, Changbin had confided in Jisung just the other day that he was feeling "curious." He'd met and hooked up with a girl that night at the club, and the past two weeks or so have been a rocky, will-they-won't-they type of situation. 

The answer: they won't. She doesn't want to commit to anything, and Changbin _does,_ but he doesn't think he wants it with _her_.

 _Or maybe not with any girl,_ he'd admitted to Jisung after a few shots of vodka. _But I dunno, it's confusing._

 _Cheers. I'll drink to that, bro,_ Jisung had said, tapping his shot glass against Changbin's. Part of him wanted to divulge what he had going on with Minho, or at least vent some of the confusing storm of feelings he held within, but he elected to keep it to himself in the end.

Since that night, Jisung has been meaning to corner Seungmin, tell him he's onto him, tell him there's hope. They'd be good for each other. He'd like to see his friends happy and Seungmin's gauge taken care of before _his_ pent-up lust becomes a problem.

And if Changbin doesn't feel the same, maybe they can work out some kind of situation like Minho and Jisung have going on. If anyone asked, Jisung would recommend it. He's learned a lot about himself and his friend throughout the experience, even if he has somewhat lost sight of his original goal, which was...

What was it, again? Oh, to find them girlfriends.

Right.

It can wait a little longer, he's sure; he keeps Minho busy enough in the meantime, and vice versa.

He thought so, anyway.

"Alright, I need to get going," Changbin says, stretching his arms up and out. Jisung immediately looks to Seungmin, smirking as the other boy's eyes rove down Changbin's torso, quick and subtle enough that anyone who wasn't looking for it would miss it. He notices Jisung's eyes on him, glancing at him, wide-eyed as he's caught.

Unfortunately for Seungmin, Jisung _was_ looking for it, and he's absolutely going to use it against him to segue into the topic of him and Changbin as soon as he's out of earshot.

"See you, bro," Jisung says, giving a half-hearted salute as Changbin rises and slings his bag over his shoulder, pushing his chair in.

"I'll see you tonight?" Seungmin asks.

"Yep." Changbin smiles down at Seungmin, squeezing his shoulder. "I'll text you." Jisung observes the contact as well as the way Seungmin's gauge jolts. "Bye!" Changbin calls as he turns to leave.

Jisung leans back in his chair, raising his eyebrows expectantly as he tries to look all-knowing and vaguely threatening.

Seungmin stares back with knitted brows. "What?"

"What's tonight?" Jisung asks.

"We're studying for a chem exam," Seungmin answers slowly. "Why?"

"Oh, just wondering," Jisung responds nonchalantly. "Hey, I can't help but notice..." He leans in over the table like he's about to reveal the universe's biggest secret, but he's sidetracked, gaze jerking over Seungmin's shoulder to a familiar figure in the distance.

 _Minho._ His heart jumps.

His first instinct is to call him over, before he realizes what's going on and the world all but stops spinning.

Minho isn't alone; he's with a girl. She's sitting with her back turned to Jisung, so all he can see is her light pink hair and denim jacket. Minho says something with a silly little grin on his face, and then he laughs, the familiar sound carrying all the way over to where Jisung sits.

That's not the problem. Minho has plenty of friends who are girls; it's nothing out of the ordinary to catch them hanging out.

The problem, Jisung realizes, his heart dropping to his feet, is Minho's gauge.

It's damn near _empty._

The only time Jisung has ever seen it that low is after they...

After Minho came.

Jisung feels a lump form in his throat. Why wouldn't Minho _tell him_ if he found someone? They had sex just yesterday, and now he's out here messing around with some girl?

_"Can we talk?"_

If Jisung's heart dropped to his feet before, it was plummeting through the earth's crust by now, burning to a crisp. That _had_ to be it. Minho has found someone, and he wants to cut it off.

Why didn't he do it sooner?

_What the fuck did those kisses mean?_

"What are you staring at?" Seungmin asks, swiveling around to follow Jisung's gaze. "Minho?"

Jisung swallows, his throat feeling dry as he tries his damnedest to prevent his eyes from welling up with tears. He _really_ does not need that right now. "Who's he with?"

Seungmin shrugs. "He mentioned some team project or another."

 _Yeah,_ Jisung thinks bitterly. _Team Backstab My Best Friend._

He slumps down in his chair, all intents to tease Seungmin forgotten.

_Fuck._

Jisung's not stupid enough to think that whatever he and Minho were doing was going to last forever. But maybe he _was_ stupid for thinking that he knew Minho well enough to know that his friend wouldn't keep something like that from him until it's already happened.

Maybe he didn't _want_ it to end.

Just when Jisung thought he was finally coming to understand Minho. Just when he started to think, that maybe...

"Jisung?" Seungmin says, concern lacing his voice. "Are you..."

"Yeah, yeah!" Jisung does his best to straighten up and not look like a kicked puppy. "God, I just―I'm so hungry. Skipped breakfast today."

"Okay," Seungmin says, doubt written all over his face. "Do you wanna get something...?" he asks, jabbing a thumb towards the café. Frankly, their croissants suck, and Jisung has been craving ramen since he stumbled out of his dorm running late for class nearly two hours ago, _and_ he needs to get far away from Minho before he ends up crying in public, so he shakes his head.

"Nah, I want ramen. You wanna come?" he asks on impulse.

"Sure," Seungmin agrees. "I've got some time to kill."

 _Thank God._ With Seungmin with him, Jisung can still talk to him about his crush on Changbin, _and_ he won't be left alone with his thoughts until his now even _more_ dreaded meeting with Minho in just a little over half an hour.

Oh _fuck._ Half an hour? How is he supposed to face Minho? How is he going to pretend to be happy for him? This may be what Jisung intended from the start, an answer to both of their problems, but whatever the hell he feels right now is far from relief.

Whether it's indignance and anger from Minho keeping it from him, jealousy that Minho beat him to it, or something _else,_ he doesn't know. But he pushes that all down, bottles it up and tucks it away in a corner of his mind to not appear a _complete_ mess and hopefully focus on his original goal with Seungmin rather than let his anxious thoughts consume him.

_"So,"_ Jisung says as he sets his bowl on the coffee table, having just finished his ramen. He leans back on the couch, an elbow propped on the back and his head propped on his hand as he stares at Seungmin expectantly. Seungmin blinks at him, perplexed, over the mouthful of ramen he's shoveling into his mouth.

"Sho?" he echoes (or tries) around a mouthful of noodles.

Jisung decides to stop beating around the bush, having wasted enough time playing coy already. "You and Changbin."

Seungmin stops chewing. Starts again. Swallows his food. "Me and Changbin...?"

"I've been keeping an eye on you, Kim Seungmin." Jisung sits back against the armrest, arms folded. "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way."

"Do _what?"_ Seungmin asks, baffled.

 _"Talk to me,"_ Jisung whines, kicking out a foot to nudge Seungmin's thigh. "I know you like him."

Something like horror flashes across Seungmin's features before he collects himself. "Obviously I like him," he says calmly, placing his bowl down on the coffee table next to Jisung's. "We're best friends."

Jisung tuts. "You _know_ that's not what I meant. Come on, talk to me? I wanna help you."

Seungmin opens his mouth to retort, promptly shutting it. He seems to contemplate it for a moment before he visibly deflates, accepting defeat as he runs a hand through his hair. "There's really nothing to talk about," he mumbles. "Or any 'helping' me, for that matter. It's hopeless."

"I wouldn't say _hopeless,"_ Jisung says, smiling when Seungmin peers at him curiously. "Look, normally I'd keep this kind of thing to myself, but I think it's best to let you know: I don't think Changbin's straight."

Seungmin blinks owlishly at him. "What makes you say that?"

"Changbin said so himself," Jisung explains. "He's confused and shit."

"When, uh..." Seungmin clears his throat. "When did he say this?"

"I dunno." Jisung wracks his brain. "Sunday, I think?" The answer seems to mean something to Seungmin, seeing as his eyes widen. "Why?"

"Okay, promise you won't tell Minho about this, or _any_ of it, because I'll never hear the end of it," Seungmin says. The mention of Minho unsettles Jisung, but he nods. "Changbin and I may have... gotten drunk and kissed on Friday." He rushes out the last bit quickly, in one breath, biting his lip afterwards.

"Really?" Jisung beams.

"Yes, but it―it was more of a joke than anything."

"Yeah, well your little 'joke' sent Changbin into a sexuality crisis," Jisung laughs, nudging Seungmin's shoulder. He groans and buries his face in his hands, ears scarlet. "Really, Seungmin! I didn't know you were such a good kisser that you could make someone question their whole life―"

"Oh my God."

"You should give me some pointers!" Jisung grins wickedly, continuing to nudge him just to get on his nerves.

 _"Stop,"_ he pleads. "He probably doesn't even remember it."

"Nah," Jisung dismisses, relenting on his teasing for a moment, "the timing's too convenient. It's you, man. You should talk to him about it. Or I could?"

"No." Seungmin shakes his head adamantly. "It's too risky. I don't want to make him uncomfortable."

"I don't think you could if you tried, to tell you the truth," Jisung says. "You guys are too close to be torn apart by something like that. You know Changbin. He'd love you no matter what, and wouldn't dream of treating you any differently."

A small smile finally finds its way onto Seungmin's lips. "I guess you're right. But... ah, I don't know! It's kind of terrifying."

Jisung nods, understanding all too well. "Think about it, okay? I'm just... I'm worried about what will happen if you keep it bottled up for too long, you know?"

"Yeah," Seungmin sighs. "I will. Thanks, Jisung."

"Anytime." Jisung smiles, squeezing his shoulder fondly. He really hopes Seungmin thinks about what he said; he's sure nothing could scare Changbin away. Jisung really just wants his friends to be happy, and if they're happy _together,_ that's even better.

He can't resist teasing Seungmin a little more while they're alone, though.

"So, how was the kiss?" He smirks, laughing when Seungmin's grateful expression turns into one of affront.

"Alright, I'm drawing the line here," Seungmin says, pushing Jisung away.

"No, no, I wanna hear about this mind-blowing kiss that made Binnie question his sexuality!"

"You really don't want to start with me―"

"Was there tongue?"

"Jisung!" Seungmin gasps, flushed red.

"Any wandering hands?"

"That's it." Jisung's life flashes before his eyes as Seungmin lunges at him, pinning him down on his back, head bumping against the armrest. He cackles under Seungmin's surprisingly strong hold, though he's not making much of an effort to escape, more focused on riling his friend up.

"I'm gonna take that as a yes," Jisung presses on. "Did he let you feel up his _strong arms,_ Seungmin?"

"Did Minho let you feel up his strong thighs?" Seungmin shoots back.

The grin falls from Jisung's face and he freezes, mortified. Heat floods his face as Seungmin smiles down at him wickedly.

"You're not the only one who's been paying attention, Jisung," he says sweetly. He leans in closer, threatening in a manner that would be comical if Jisung weren't horrified. "Make sure you can take what you dish out."

"I―I don't know what you're―"

Seungmin's eyes dart up suddenly as Jisung hears rustling behind him. He sits up, knocking Seungmin off his lap in the process, both disheveled and red-faced as they stare at a bewildered Minho who had just entered.

He stands in the doorway, looking between them blankly.

"Hi," Jisung says dumbly, hoping he doesn't look nearly as flustered as Seungmin exposing him had made him feel.

"We were just talking about you," Seungmin snickers. Jisung kicks him.

"Seungmin was just _leaving,"_ he says through gritted teeth.

"I'm sure," Minho says after a moment, hesitating in the doorway. Jisung pushes Seungmin towards the edge of the couch with a pointed look.

"Okay, okay, I'm gone," Seungmin says, carrying his bowl to the kitchenette while mumbling something about Jisung not letting him finish his ramen, and then he's saying his goodbyes and leaving them alone.

Minho still awkwardly hovers around the door, having removed his jacket and dropped a nondescript brown bag on the counter.

"You... wanted to talk?" Jisung breaks the silence, gnawing at his lip.

"Is Jeongin here?" Minho asks, voice clipped and giving nothing away. His "it's nothing bad" is sounding less promising by the second.

Jisung glances down the hall. "I think so? He's probably napping, so..."

Minho nods once, wordlessly heading towards Jisung's room on the opposite side of the dorm. Jisung follows him, heart pounding.

He clicks the door shut behind them and Minho runs a hand through his hair before spinning around to face him with a fire in his eyes unlike anything Jisung has ever seen.

"What the fuck just happened?"

"W-What?" Jisung stammers, panic rising in his throat.

"Don't play dumb," Minho spits. "You and Seungmin. What's going on?"

 _"What?"_ Jisung repeats, jaw dropping. "Nothing! He was just―W-We were just playing around, I don't know what it looked like to you, but―"

He turns the words over in his mind feverishly, desperate to explain without compromising Seungmin's feelings for Changbin _or_ the fact that he had been teasing Jisung about his attraction towards Minho, still trying to wrap his head around it himself.

"Playing around?" Minho scoffs, incredulous. "That's not what it looked like to me."

"No, no, please listen," Jisung begs, even though he isn't quite sure what he's begging him to listen _to_. "I-It's really hard to explain."

"What's so hard about it?" Minho says, a touch of desperation in his voice, in his eyes. His voice is small when he asks, "Are you fucking him?"

"No!" Jisung cries, shocked as to how Minho arrived at that conclusion. "What the fuck makes you think that?"

"What am I _supposed_ to think?" Minho retorts. "You've been staring at him for weeks, and then I walk in on him on top of you, and y-you're both all red―"

"Okay, I know it looks weird, but I was just―well, I was trying to help him, and things got out of hand."

 _"'Help him?'_ Is that what you call it?"

"Yeah, actually, it is," Jisung snaps, frustration boiling over. "I don't know what makes you think you know everything, or—or why you're acting like I fucking _cheated_ on you or something. It's not like we're—" 

The words die on his tongue and crawl back down to form a lump in his throat when he sees the look in Minho's eyes. The fire from before has been doused out, and they're clouded by smoke, by _pain_.

Jisung feels a rush of guilt, a bit of hurt of his own, and most of all _confusion,_ because all he's doing is stating the truth—but in an instant, it all becomes eclipsed by panic.

_Crack._

_Shit,_ he needs to fix this. "Minho, listen, we're not—I'm not fooling around with Seungmin, okay? I never have. I wouldn't lie to you."

Minho's eyes search his face, then look down dejectedly. "I believe you," he says softly, all the anger drained from his voice to be replaced by weariness, despondency. He may as well just have punched Jisung in the throat; it would hurt less than seeing Minho like this.

And then he's moving to push past him to leave. Jisung grabs his arm without thinking and Minho looks at him, startled and hurt.

The _last_ thing he wants is to hurt Minho or have him think he can't trust Jisung, even if it means betraying Seungmin's secrets. He's sure his friend would understand if he saw how distressed Minho is right now, and if not, well... Minho is leagues more important than keeping a little secret.

On top of it all, Jisung is tired, too. This power has become more of a burden than anything, and he has no one to share it with, no one he can even talk to about it. He'd just lectured Seungmin about keeping things bottled up; maybe it's time for him to take his own advice.

Minho deserves the truth. The _whole_ truth.

"Okay, this is going to sound fucking insane," Jisung warns. "But I _swear_ it's true. About a month ago, there was that meteor shower, right? And I wished on a star for―for a girlfriend. I'm a loser, I know. But when I woke up the next day, I could see a gauge hovering above everyone's shoulders that basically shows me how turned on they are."

Minho stares at him, unblinking, and Jisung takes a deep breath.

"And then, at that party, you know the asshole who was groping that girl? His gauge was, like, busted and leaking. And yours was super full, and I noticed it had a crack, so I was terrified. I thought, 'what if that happens to Minho?' So I had to do _something._ And you just kept getting cracks, so I kept... you know."

To his surprise, Minho hasn't scoffed at him in disbelief, hasn't shut him up or turned away. His expression remains impassive, unreadable.

"And as for what happened with Seungmin, I've been staring at him lately because I'm _worried,_ not because... ew." Jisung grimaces. "His gauge has been high too, so I was trying to convince him to talk to Changbin, because I think they like each other. But I kept teasing him, so he tackled me down and teased me back, so that's why it looked like... yeah."

He swallows, eyes scanning Minho's face. "Does that... does that make sense?"

_Do you believe me?_

"I think I get it," Minho speaks up finally, voice quiet and ice cold. "You just wanted to help your friends."

"Yes! Exactly," Jisung breathes, worries alleviated beyond belief. "Man, it's such a relief to get that off my chest―"

"And you were sleeping with me to _help a friend,_ too?" Minho's voice is weak, wavering.

"What...?" Jisung's heart pounds against his ribcage like it's trying to escape. How does he respond to that? 

_Why_ doesn't he know how to respond to that?

Yes, that's why he did anything with Minho in the first place, but is that the only reason anymore? Jisung doesn't think so. He _likes_ being intimate with Minho, with or without the sense of obligation he feels towards his lust gauge. If Minho suddenly found a cure to being perpetually horny, would Jisung still want to sleep with him?

The answer is pretty simple.

And then he remembers―Minho _has_ found a cure, in the form of that girl he'd definitely fucked around with earlier, even if his gauge _is_ full again now. How does Minho have the nerve to get jealous over some imaginary relationship Jisung has with Seungmin, when he went behind Jisung's back to fool around with some chick?

_Crack._

Jisung's back collides with his door, Minho's hands balled in his shirt and his lips crashing into Jisung's, forceful and desperate. Jisung's brain takes a moment to catch up, and he hesitantly places his hands on Minho's hips, body screaming to pull him closer and kiss him back while his mind tells him to push him away.

Minho gives him no time to decide, yanking himself away when he doesn't respond and staring at Jisung with glassy eyes. "None of that meant anything?" he demands. "I'm nothing but a fucking _charity case_ to you?" 

"Minho—"

"I knew your feelings weren't as strong as mine, but I thought you started to return them, if only a little bit."

Jisung has never seen his face so contorted with anguish, has never even seen Minho _cry,_ but here he is, eyes glazed with tears threatening to fall. Jisung's heart _aches_.

Then it jumps into a panic when more cracks split down the length of Minho's gauge.

"Minho, wait!" He grabs Minho's shoulders, nerves frenzied. He has no idea what to say, no time to collect his thoughts; it's all happening so fast and Minho's gauge could shatter any second. "Please, it's breaking! Listen―" He moves to cup Minho's face, but Minho quickly pushes him off.

"It's your fucking fault if it is!" he all but shouts, tears beginning to spill down his cheeks.

_Crack._

His gauge shatters to pieces before Jisung's eyes, dissipating into thin air. He can't do anything but look on in horror.

"Y-You knew how I felt, and you took advantage of it trying to be my fucking _savior_ or something―" Minho chokes out a humorless laugh, angrily wiping the tears that fall. "I can't believe I thought..."

"I _knew_ how you _felt?"_ Jisung repeats, raising his voice as indignation joins in the storm of emotions swirling inside him, tears pricking at his own eyes. "How am I supposed to know how you feel when you never _tell_ me? When you bottle everything up until it explodes in your face? And it's _my_ fault? You're the one who never lets me in. You're my best fucking friend, and I feel like I don't know a goddamn thing about you sometimes!"

Minho stares at him, tear streaks running down his red face, lip quivering, eyes glazed with hurt that Jisung regrets ever putting there. He shakes his head furiously, using the backs of his sleeves to wipe his tears.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, reaching for the doorknob, but Jisung blocks his path. "I'm _sorry,_ " he sobs as he looks into Jisung's eyes, pleading, and Jisung's hands twitch with the desire to pull him into a hug, pet his hair and hush him with soothing murmurs until he falls asleep, but Minho is intent on leaving. "Please move."

"Don't go," Jisung whispers, feeling his own eyes well with tears as his hand covers Minho's. "Can we just talk it out, please?"

Now that he thinks about it, it's a shame that Minho's original intentions of talking got so derailed that he didn't have a chance to tell Jisung about his girl. 

A crying shame.

"I need to be alone," Minho tells him, pulling at the door more insistently.

Jisung wants to fight it, wants to beg Minho to stay and resolve this with him, but there's so much finality in his voice, so much sorrow and defeat that he just steps aside wordlessly.

And he lets him go.

Jisung lets the tears fall freely the moment the door closes behind Minho, letting his back hit the wall and slide down until he's on the floor, where he stays. He stays there, and he cries, and he replays the argument over and over in his mind, trying to pick it apart and understand not only Minho, but also himself.

_None of that meant anything?_

Why didn't he have an answer to that?

Of course it meant something to him. The question is _what?_

The simple answer: more than it should, if he got that upset seeing Minho with someone else. But what the fuck did it mean to _Minho,_ then, if he thinks he can do whatever he wants and expect Jisung to―what, exactly? Return his feelings?

He can't return something he doesn't fucking understand.

Jisung runs his hands down his face, puffy and wet, and pulls himself to his feet. His body feels heavy as he trudges to the bathroom to splash some water on his face, grimacing at his reflection.

"Hey," Jeongin calls from the kitchenette before Jisung can slip back inside his room. "You want me to put this up?" he asks, holding up the bag Minho had left behind.

"What is it?" Jisung asks, reluctantly going to look. His voice sounds stuffy, like he'd been crying for an hour, which he nearly had. Jeongin silently passes him the bag and he peers inside, heart breaking a little more at the sight of a little container holding a slice of his favorite flavor of cheesecake from his favorite bakery.

There's a little note tucked underneath it, black ink on a pink slip of paper. Jisung extracts it with a shaky hand.

_Jisungie,_

_I told myself I was going to say this in person, but as you know, hyung is emotionally constipated and bad with words and shit. I'm still going to try, but I'm writing this note as a failsafe just in case because I physically can't put this off any longer. Hopefully I manage not to chicken out and then remember to throw this away, because that would be really embarrassing otherwise. (if you're reading this, oops)_

_I'm so in love with you, Jisung. These past few weeks have been the happiest of my life. You make me feel so warm and complete, like my other half or some shit. And you make me super sappy!!! Ew. Christ this is so fucking cheesy (haha cheesecake) but it's true. I wish I could express it better to you, but I hope this is enough until I can._

_I hope I'm not reading things wrong and you feel the same, but if you don't that's okay too. You're my best friend no matter what. And if you don't, you can accept this cheesecake as a gift for a new beginning as we forget this ever happened and go back to being friends again._

_(This is the part where we kiss. Or I erase your memories. Your choice)_

_Yours,  
Minho _♡

Jisung doesn't realize tears are streaming down his face until one drips from his chin, landing on the bottom of the paper, right beside a crude drawing of a cat. Something clicks in his head, something he'd wedged a rock of denial in between and prayed it would hold. But now the rock is smashed to dust, and the pieces are finally together, and nothing has ever made this much sense.

And _oh._

Jisung is in love with him.

Jisung is so fucking in love with him.

He can't believe he didn't see―no, didn't let himself _believe_ _it_ sooner.

Deep down, he knew what it meant, the way Minho made him feel. He may have even known it before any of this; he's not sure where on the timeline of their relationship his platonic feelings turned into something more. But the fact that he's managed to push them down and deny them through all of that is truly _astonishing_. Wow.

Biggest fucking idiot of the year award goes to Han Jisung.

"Jisung?" Jeongin's voice is gentle as he places a hand on Jisung's shoulder.

"I'm so fucking stupid," Jisung sniffles.

"What happened?" he asks, gingerly taking Jisung's arm and guiding him to sit on the couch. Jisung chuckles wetly, sorry for making his poor roommate witness his meltdown. Jeongin always takes it in good stride though, always kind and helpful as he can be.

"Minho and I fought," he explains, wiping his face and looking at Jeongin. "But―" He falters.

Wait.

He can't see Jeongin's gauge?

Minho's disappeared when it shattered, too...

Did he lose his power? Had he fucked things up so spectacularly that the cosmos deemed him unworthy?

He wouldn't blame it, if that's the case.

"I heard." Jeongin grimaces as he interrupts Jisung's thoughts.

Jisung winces. "You... heard? How much?"

"Bits and pieces. I don't know what's going on, if that's what you're asking," he says, offering a placating smile.

Jisung takes a deep breath, and exhales a sentence: "Minho and I have been sleeping together."

"Sleeping together?" Jeongin tilts his head innocently. "You always do that."

"No, not―"

"Nah, I'm just messing with you. I knew you two were fucking."

_"Huh?!"_

"Don't give me that look!" he laughs. "Maybe if you guys could keep it in your pants until I left!"

"Hey, that's Minho's fault!" Jisung argues, defensive. "Usually. A-Anyway! That's not the point."

"Right, right. Sorry." Jeongin drops it, schooling his expression to be serious again. "So you were fighting because...?"

"Um..." Jisung exhales, running a hand through his hair. "Basically, it was uh, an allegedly platonic arrangement, but Minho caught feelings―or already had them?―and got upset because I'm an idiot who kind of unintentionally led him on, I guess. And then he basically confessed, and I just fucking stood there... I've never seen him that upset, Jeongin."

"You don't feel the same?"

"I do!" Jisung exclaims, sitting up straight and sure before he deflates again. "It just took me breaking his fucking heart to realize it."

Jeongin hums thoughtfully. "So what are you gonna do about it?"

Jisung blinks.

What's he going to do about it?

Well, there's only one thing he _can_ do, isn't there?

Jisung jumps up from the couch, adrenaline rushing through his veins as he grabs either side of Jeongin's head and plants a big, wet kiss on his forehead.

"What the fuck!" he wails, ducking out of Jisung's grip too late and wiping his forehead in disgust.

"Thanks, man." Jisung beams, ruffling his hair before grabbing his discarded hoodie from the back of the couch and pulling it over his head urgently.

"I didn't even do anything," Jeongin says while Jisung hurries towards the door and trips over himself trying to slip his shoes on without untying them.

"Emotional support is very valuable!" Jisung calls over his shoulder, reaching for the door only to freeze in his tracks.

 _Fuck._ He has no game plan other than to confess his feelings and throw himself at Minho's feet. What if Minho doesn't want to see him? What if he needs more time? Jisung doesn't want to leave him hanging, either...

"What are you waiting for?" Jeongin groans. "I was looking forward to the peace and quiet."

Jisung spins around, worrying his lip. "What if I make things worse?"

Jeongin scoffs and shakes his head. "He's madly in love with you." He fakes a gag at his own words, making Jisung laugh. "I seriously doubt you telling him you feel the same is gonna make things _worse."_

"Yeah... Yeah, okay." Jisung nods, hyping himself up again. "I can do this."

"You got this!" Jeongin cheers, pumping his fist in the air.

"Don't wait up," Jisung calls teasingly as he slips out the door.

"I never do," Jeongin calls.

☆彡

Jisung runs like he hasn't run since high school with his terrifying P.E. teacher behind him, aggressively blowing his whistle and threatening to give Jisung another lap, Minho making crude comics about him afterwards to make Jisung feel better.

He runs like he'd run when Minho would tag along on his annual family vacations and chase him along the beach with a crab in his hand, threatening to drop it in Jisung's trunks. 

The last time he ran like this was probably his graduation day, sprinting across campus, late and frazzled in all his photos. He'd gotten drunk for the first time that night and fallen asleep in Minho's arms.

Jisung couldn't imagine a life without Minho.

Because he's a constant, because he's safe, comfortable, familiar, and all those lovely things―but also because he's just so... _Minho._

He has a serious case of resting bitch face, and he _can_ live up to the title if he wants; he's sarcastic, blunt, grumpy, touchy, and making fun of his friends is his favorite pastime after petting cats. But for every quirk that might come across as negative, there's a hundred acts of selfless kindness, a word of reassurance, a gentle smile, a goofy giggle, a heart of gold beneath it all.

People think he's cold, but being loved by him is the warmest feeling Jisung has ever known. 

He doesn't think a person better to be in love with exists.

He still can't believe it took him so long to figure it out, but he can't keep living in the past. All he can do now is focus on their future, tell Minho how much he loves him and show him how much he means it, a thousand times over if he has to.

Starting with right now.

He comes to a stop in front of Minho's door, bent over with hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath, chest heaving. Honestly, he'd probably have passed out if Minho's dorm had been just a few hundred feet farther away.

(He could have just walked, but he didn't want to spend too much time second-guessing himself, or leave Minho to pick up the pieces by himself for a second longer. He owes him this much.)

And after several curious stares (from students _without_ meters, he'd noticed), and way too many steps for his poor, out-of-shape legs, he's here.

He's never been such a bizarre combination of anxious, excited, regretful, and _in love_ in his life.

As soon as Jisung has reached the point that he's fairly certain he can speak without sounding like he's dying, he pounds on the door, and waits.

Fuck, he really hopes Minho is here. He _did_ say he needed to be alone, but―

Fear squeezes Jisung's heart. What if he's with that girl? What the fuck is up with that, anyway? If he's in love with Jisung, then what was he doing with her? Unless... he's only horny when he's with Jisung?

Is it too conceited of him to come to that conclusion, Jisung wonders? It would add up, all the times Jisung had just barely moved and Minho's gauge went crazy. If that's the case―oh _man,_ Jisung is never going to let him live it down.

Jisung doesn't know how many seconds have passed since he knocked, but it's long enough for him to worry. "Minho?" he calls, knocking again. "I-It's me. I really, _really_ need to talk to you. Please let me in."

Silence. Jisung is fumbling around for his phone with the intention to call him when he hears the lock unlatch, his heart pounding harder than it had after sprinting all the way here.

Minho looks the same as he did when Jisung saw him not even an hour ago, red and glassy-eyed and _small,_ but this time it's different. This time, Jisung has finally made sense of the jumbled mess in his head, and he can see everything _so clearly._

He's wearing the same blank expression that normally adorns his pretty face, but now Jisung can see the hurt, the longing behind his eyes. He can look at those perfect lips and _know_ that he wants to kiss them forever, not to taste his lip gloss or whatever bullshit excuse his brain conjured, but because he _loves him._

_I love him so much._

Tears spring to Jisung's eyes again as he's struck with an overwhelming want to grab Minho's face and kiss him until he's breathless all over again, hold him, show him he's safe, that he's loved. To be a guiding light in the darkness like Minho has always been for him, to keep him warm.

But first, the hard part.

"What do you want, Jisung?" he mutters, eyes downcast. His long lashes are clumped together from the tears that rim his eyes. Jisung never wants to make him cry again.

"Can I come in?" Jisung asks softly.

"I really don't think―"

"I'm in love with you," he blurts, unable to keep the words trapped inside his throat, unable to see Minho hurting without them any longer.

Minho blinks up at him in surprise, exhaling a near-inaudible "What?"

Jisung nods, a smile stretching his lips. "I'm so stupid, Minho. But I love you. I know that now."

Minho's eyes dart between Jisung's own, like he's looking for the truth in his words. Jisung hopes he finds it, hopes he can see all the love he holds for him as he finally allows it to surface.

"You... do?" Minho's fingers peek out from his sleeves, toying with the hem of his hoodie. His eyes are wide―still glassy, but brighter.

"Yes," Jisung says with certainty, gently taking Minho's hands into his. "Can we talk, just, real fast? I'll leave afterwards if you want me to. Just give me, like, five minutes. Please."

Minho nods wordlessly, stepping aside to let Jisung in while the younger whispers a _thank you._ They cross the short distance to the den, Jisung reaching for Minho's hands again the moment they're seated next to each other on the couch.

"Okay, where do I start?" Jisung lets out a breath. "I think I've established I'm an idiot. I always saw myself as someone who was in touch with my feelings, but _man,_ I really dropped the ball with this one."

Minho breathes out a soft laugh, and seeing his smile after all of this is like the appearance of a vibrant rainbow on a gloomy, murky expanse of sky, easing Jisung's nerves like magic.

He continues, "I don't know. I used trying to 'help you' as an excuse, honestly. I knew there was something under the surface, like a-a reason I _liked_ it so much, and stopped looking for a girlfriend, and got so upset when I saw you with that girl today..."

"Girl?" Minho tilts his head. 

"Yeah, I saw you with some girl before you came over."

Minho stares blankly. "Jisung, that was Ryujin."

Jisung's eyebrows pinch together in confusion. "No, the girl had pink hair."

"She just dyed it," Minho says, nudging Jisung's knee with his own. "Sheesh, keep up with your friends."

Jisung feels his face warm with embarrassment. He'd just gotten coffee with Ryujin a few days ago, with the same navy blue hair she'd had at the club. Now that Minho mentions it, the girl's hair was the exact same length as Ryujin's―well, because it _was_ her.

"Oh my God," Jisung groans. "I can't believe I thought you were fooling around with our _lesbian friend_ behind my back."

"Fooling around?" Minho's eyebrows shoot up. "What the fuck made you think that?"

Jisung scratches behind his ear sheepishly. It feels so fucking weird to talk about the power he had out loud with how outlandish it is. He must sound ridiculous.

"Well, your, uh... Your _gauge_ was really low."

"And?"

"And... and I only ever saw it low after I got you off," he explains. "It was always super high when we were together until we took care of it." Minho makes a face, processing the information. Jisung smirks. "So basically, with this new information I can conclude that you're just super horny for _me,_ exclusively."

With that in mind, the knowledge that Minho is _not,_ in fact, some lecherous weirdo with an unnaturally high libido in danger of turning into a _criminal_ (and _God,_ Jisung feels more stupid for ever thinking someone like Minho could stoop to that level more than anything else)...

_Did me trying to help him just make it worse?_

Man, Jisung is a grade-A fool.

"Congratulations," Minho says dryly, rolling his eyes. "You want a cookie?"

"Nah," Jisung grins, "I already got a cheesecake. And it was _super_ cheesy."

Minho's eyes widen in horror as he gasps. "The cheesecake! Oh my God, please don't tell me―"

"I read it." Minho's cheeks darken and Jisung laughs, more fond than teasing. He wraps an arm around Minho's shoulders, pulling him close as he leans them back against the back of the sofa. "No, stop, it was cute! Very _Minho_ of you." He brushes Minho's bangs aside for no other reason than a desire to touch him.

"What does that even _mean?"_ he whines, face falling into his hands.

"Nothing, nothing!" Jisung giggles. "Just that you're special. And I love you." Minho's head lifts to look at him again. His eyes are positively _sparkling,_ taking Jisung's breath away and making his brain go fuzzy. "The―The note is actually what made me realize. On top of, y'know, a million other things."

Minho lets out a huff of laughter. "All of that, and a silly note I meant to throw away is what finally makes you use your brain?"

"Hey, my _brain_ is the enemy," Jisung argues. "It just got me to let my heart do the talking."

"Ugh, you're so cheesy."

"You're one to talk, Mr. Love Letter," Jisung teases. Minho moves to put his head in his hands again, but Jisung stops him with a careful hand on his jaw, tilting his face towards him. Minho stares in surprise, lips parted, and Jisung wants nothing more than to swoop in and kiss him all night, but he hesitates.

"I'm really sorry about earlier," he says, voice half the volume it had been moments ago, "and all the time before that where I was being dumb. I'm gonna do better. I'm gonna pay more attention, and communicate better, and―and anything else you need, okay?"

"Me, too," Minho says, smiling as his fingertips brush over Jisung's knuckles. "I'm sorry, too. For being so... closed-off, and expecting you to know what was going through my head. I'll do better. It's a shame you didn't get mind-reading powers instead, though."

"Yeah," Jisung laughs. "Though I'm not entirely sure I want to know what's going on in your sex-crazed mind."

Minho lets out an affronted gasp, punching his shoulder. "Like you're any better!"

Jisung nods as if to say _fair enough,_ snickering.

"Are we okay?" he asks.

"I am if you are," Minho answers.

"Never been better," Jisung grins, then takes a deep breath. "I just―I know I upset you, and you said you needed to be alone, and it's a lot to take in at once. So if you need some more time to process it all that's totally―"

"Jisung?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you kiss me already, please?"

_God, yes._

"Yes, I can." Jisung smiles and leans in, stopping a breath short. Minho tries to close the gap, but Jisung pulls away, resulting in a pout. "But you have to say it first."

Minho's brow pinches in confusion for a brief moment before realization passes over his features and he's looking down, smiling bashfully as he intertwines their fingers.

"Okay." He brings their hands to his face, pressing a soft kiss on the back of Jisung's. "I love you, Jisung." Jisung beams, and Minho's smile grows ten times brighter as he giggles giddily, lifting his free hand to cup Jisung's cheek and sweep a gentle thumb over it. "God, I love you."

The way that he gazes at Jisung with such pure, unadulterated adoration is plenty evidence of the fact, and it warms Jisung from the inside out like a flame lit deep within―a flame that's _been_ there, one blazing so bright that he can't ignore it any longer, not that he wants to.

Jisung wants it to consume him.

"Yeah, I love me, too," he jokes. Minho sends him a playful glare that has happy laughter bubbling from his chest. "I love you."

With that, he leans in, _finally_ leans in, a gentle hand on Minho's neck as his eyes fall shut and head tilts and he slots their lips together, tender and loving.

If Jisung thought kissing Minho felt good before, between all the confusion and ignorance and the jumbled mess of his mind, kissing him now that he knows he's head over heels is damn near an out of body experience.

Their kisses are chaste, almost timid, just the two of them melting into one another, periodically giggling when one would smile into the kiss. There's nothing in Jisung's head but reverence and love and the gentle sounds that resonate through his head with every soft disconnect of their lips.

Jisung doesn't know how long it's been before Minho pulls away―doesn't care, he'll sit here and kiss him until the end of time if he wants―but then his lips trail down past Jisung's, drag along his jaw, and then his neck, setting his skin on fire. He tilts his head and bares his neck to accommodate Minho's wandering mouth, breathing ragged as the sensitive skin is sucked between those pretty lips.

Before the kiss yesterday, their mouths hadn't ever been utilized much in their _arrangement,_ aside from being used on each other's dicks, the occasional nip on a thigh, and teasing words. (And that one time that still haunts Jisung when he'd tried to quiet Minho and the older responded by sucking his fingers into his mouth.)

But _goddamn,_ how did they not cave sooner, when this feels so heavenly?

 _Because you're dense,_ his mind supplies. 

Ah, that might be it.

Anyway, what matters is that they're here now, Minho insistently nibbling at his collarbone, breath hot and lips soft while Jisung's arm wraps around to run a hand through Minho's hair. He freezes, perturbed by a sudden thought of Minho's roommate walking in on them. "I-Is Chan here?"

"Nope," Minho says, leaving another peck on his jaw before rising back up to eye level, a smirk curling his lips. "Why do you ask?"

"I was just hoping he wouldn't walk in on this," Jisung admits, chuckling. "But you look like you have something else in mind."

"Mm," Minho hums, looping his arms around Jisung's neck as he climbs into his lap. He grinds down subtly, sparking warmth in the pit of Jisung's stomach. "You'd know, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah, I would," Jisung breathes, sliding his hands under the fabric of Minho's hoodie to run up his soft sides. "Did I mention I can't see them anymore?"

"The gauges?" Minho asks with a frown, and Jisung nods. "No... You can't?"

"Not since we argued," Jisung affirms. "I don't know why, but I don't really care." He shrugs. "It's a relief to be rid of it. Besides..." He brings a hand up to Minho's jaw, runs his thumb along his bottom lip. "I don't need it to know what _you_ want."

"Oh yeah?" Minho raises a challenging eyebrow. "And what's that?"

"Will Chan be back tonight?" he asks instead of answering.

Minho shakes his head, smile growing. "No. What should we do with an empty dorm?" he wonders, tapping his chin.

"I dunno," Jisung plays along, cheeks hurting from how much he's been smiling. "Any ideas?"

"We could watch that movie we've been meaning to, with the clowns," he muses. "No one's around to hear you scream like a little girl."

"No one's around to hear you, either," Jisung says suggestively, ignoring the insult to run hands up Minho's thighs. "You can be as loud as you want."

Minho scoffs. "And what, pray tell, would _I_ need to be loud about?"

"Well, I could probably make you scream if I, like, chased you around with a knife or something," Jisung says thoughtfully. "Or―"

"Hot," Minho interrupts, earning a light slap to his thigh.

 _"Or,"_ Jisung says, "I could take you to your room and show you how much I love you."

Minho's face lights up and turns pink as he plays with the hair at the nape of Jisung's neck, but he continues to be predictably difficult. "By stabbing me?"

"Well, that's... _one_ way to put it."

Minho's forehead falls on Jisung's shoulder, his body shaking with laughter. "Okay, you win," he says, the voice low in Jisung's ear making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he trails kisses along his neck. "I guess you don't need some dumb power to know what I want."

"It helps that you're so horny and predictable," Jisung quips. Minho bites his ear―not nibbles, _bites_ ―in retaliation and Jisung squeals, knocking him off his lap. Minho falls to his side on the couch, laughing. "Okay, okay, I'll stop!"

"Good!" Minho huffs. "I'm tired of you acting like you aren't equally as horny as me."

"Fine," Jisung groans. "I'm horny! Happy?"

"Very." Minho grins, grabbing Jisung by the hoodie and pulling until he falls on top of Minho. Jisung braces a hand on the couch to cage Minho in as he's pulled in for a kiss, using the other to push under his hoodie and smooth over his stomach while they giggle against each other's lips.

Jisung's hand wanders higher until his thumb brushes over Minho's nipple―a _very_ sensitive spot for him, he's learned―and twists it lightly between his fingers. Minho gasps softly, his hips bucking up against Jisung.

God, Jisung can't wait to make him fall apart.

Apparently Minho can't either, as he whimpers, rolling his hips into Jisung's again. "Jisungie," he breathes. "Bed."

"Bed," Jisung agrees, clambering off of Minho and pulling him to his feet, their hands entwined as they pad towards Minho's bedroom. Minho nudges the door shut behind them; there's no one to interrupt or hear them, but it's nice. Like they're shut off from the rest of the world for a while.

Like nothing exists but Jisung and Minho.

That's all that exists to Jisung in this moment, anyway, as Minho tugs him close by the sleeves and kisses him once, chaste, before attempting to pull his hoodie over his head. Jisung helps him and makes quick work of Minho's, too, both of them landing on the ground forgotten while eager hands roam over needy skin.

Minho whimpers into Jisung's mouth when he palms him, stumbling into Jisung when his knees give out at the touch.

"Jesus," Jisung breathes, awed. "Maybe you should sit down?" He smirks teasingly, guiding Minho until he's falling back onto the bed, not even offering a retort beyond a huff as he happily shimmies out of his sweatpants and underwear at Jisung's guidance.

"You, too," Minho says, hastily unfastening Jisung's jeans.

"We've got all night, baby," Jisung soothes, gently taking ahold of Minho's fumbling hand. "Slow down. I wanna take my time with you."

Minho blushes scarlet, shyly pulling away to watch Jisung remove his own pants. "Jeeze," he mumbles, "when did you become such a suave motherfucker?"

Jisung huffs out a laugh, kicking his shoes off so he can peel his too-tight pants off and chuck them aside, crawling on the bed to hover over Minho in just his boxers. "I've always been a suave motherfucker."

Minho laughs so loudly that it startles Jisung. "No, you really haven't. I'm not complaining, though." He bites his lip, running his hands up Jisung's arms. "I think it's sexy."

Jisung feels his cheeks warm. It's not like he didn't _know_ Minho was into every one of his awful attempts at pillow talk, which have apparently improved over the weeks if Minho's reaction is anything to go by, but hearing it from his mouth is something else entirely.

"You're sexy," Jisung says, kissing away the _I know_ that he can sense forming on Minho's tongue. Jisung grinds down on him while he kisses him slow and deep, reverent, like Minho will break if he isn't handled with the utmost care. His tongue just barely teases past Minho's lips before he trails down to Minho's neck as the older had done earlier, mouthing against the hot skin.

Minho threads a hand in Jisung's hair as he travels lower still until he's flicking his tongue over Minho's nipple experimentally, smiling when Minho's entire body reacts, jolting. "You like that?" he teases.

Minho narrows his eyes. "Obviously― _ah_." He throws his head back when Jisung sucks it into his mouth and hums. _"Fuck."_

And _God,_ Jisung loves how sensitive he is. He could do this for hours, watch how unraveled Minho becomes under the lightest touches, the gentlest sucks and kisses. Make him feel so good that the only thing on his mind is this moment, reduce his vocabulary down to just Jisung's name. Make him so desperate that he begs Jisung to make him come.

...Maybe that last part can wait for another time. Tonight is about giving Minho everything he wants, treating him like royalty to the best of Jisung's abilities, showing him how much love he holds for him, making him _feel_ it.

Minho has other plans, it seems, as he rolls them over so that he's on top, Jisung's hands pinned on either side of his head. Jisung stares up at him, heart pounding.

"W-What are you―"

"Making you feel good too," Minho murmurs, lips latching onto Jisung's neck to cover it in open-mouthed kisses. He favors a spot above his pulse, sucking the skin hard before soothing over it with his tongue.

Jisung pouts despite his growing arousal. "This was supposed to be about you."

That seems to be a recurring theme with them.

Jisung went into all of this in the first place with the intentions of helping Minho. Getting himself off was just an added bonus, a convenient byproduct. But Minho always finds a way to turn the tables, to make it about Jisung, to put him first and take care of him like he always does.

"This is about _us,"_ Minho corrects. He releases Jisung's wrists to run a hand through his hair, smiling fondly. "You think I don't want to show you how much I love you, too?"

"But―"

"But nothing! I've been carrying around the burden of being in love with an oblivious idiot for so long. I think I have the _right_ to show you."

"But you _always_ show me," Jisung whines. "I wanna―Wait, how long?" Minho purses his lips, averting his gaze. Jisung places a gentle hand on his jaw, tilting his head back up. "Minho, how long?"

"Since you were a freshman." Oh, okay. That was just about a year ago― "In high school."

Jisung's jaw drops.

"That's the year we _met."_

"I'm aware," he mumbles, cheeks redder than before.

"Minho..." Jisung gazes up at him in awe, in adoration, in _guilt,_ for making him think he had to hide those feelings all this time. In embarrassment, too―because _wow,_ every time Jisung thinks back to himself in high school, he cringes viscerally. "You fell in love with me in _high school?_ That's so embarrassing!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Minho hisses, raising a tiny fist in a manner that's meant to be threatening. How is Jisung going to be threatened by someone who fell in love with _high school_ Jisung?

"I'm sorry, it's just―" Jisung shudders as he recalls photos from years ago, of himself with a horrid bowl-cut and thick-rimmed glasses, always looking incredibly awkward and out of place (except for the pictures he has with Minho, of course). _"How?"_

"You say that like you're any better now," Minho deadpans.

Jisung gasps. "I'm way better now! I'm sexy as hell!"

Minho ducks his head, giggling. "Well... you sure didn't have _these_ in high school," he says, ghosting his hand over Jisung's abs.

"At least I know you don't just want me for my body," Jisung jokes weakly, brought back to the present by the hunger in Minho's eyes as they rake over said body.

"No, but it's a bonus for sure. These, these..." His hands go from Jisung's abs to his biceps, giving them an appreciative squeeze before trailing lower and cupping Jisung through his boxers. "...And definitely _this._ "

"Ah," Jisung exhales, body on fire. "So you just want me for my muscles and my dick. Got it."

So _maybe_ he's fishing for compliments a bit, maybe he wants Minho to praise him some more. Sue him.

"Shut up," Minho scoffs, rolling his eyes. "I want you for all of you." He slips his hand under the elastic to wrap around Jisung and stroke him tenderly, and whispers, "You're perfect."

"That's my line," Jisung says, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. Minho's lips reconnect with his neck, carrying on until Jisung is sure there isn't an inch of skin gone unkissed.

"Off," Minho says, eventually tugging at Jisung's waistband. Jisung lifts off the bed to help Minho remove his underwear and toss it aside. Minho is in position in an instant, having crawled down the bed to lie between Jisung's legs.

What a sight it is, Minho's eyes boring into him as he licks up the underside of Jisung's cock, eyes creasing with a smile when he groans.

"Fuck," Jisung gasps out, "I love your mouth."

Minho exhales a sharp laugh, his breath hitting Jisung's slick cock. "My mouth loves you too."

And he makes sure Jisung _knows_ it, taking him between his lips and worshipping every inch of him with his skillful tongue.

Jisung isn't the only one who wants to take it sweet and slow, it seems, but even he eventually reaches a point where he can't take Minho's torturously gentle pace any longer.

"Fuck, baby, please," he whines. Minho hums questioningly, peering up at him through his lashes. "Minho, you're killing me. Let me finger you."

"Okay." Minho pops off of him with a giggle, giving him a few final strokes before pulling away to rummage through his drawer. He hesitates, his hand hovering over something.

"What is it?" Jisung asks.

Minho turns to him, self-consciously tugging at his ear. "Can we... not use a condom? I wanna feel you."

"Oh." Jisung balks. "Um, shit. Yeah. That's―that's good with me."

Minho relaxes and smiles. He climbs back onto the bed, passing Jisung the lube as they return to their original positions, Minho on his back with Jisung looming over him. He warms the liquid on his fingers before easing in, working Minho open carefully and lovingly.

Seeing Minho―his best friend, the boy he loves more than anything―like this, in the throes of pleasure with sweet moans leaving his raw lips, gorgeous thighs tensing with pleasure, eyes beautiful and pleading, all without Jisung's head muddled by denial and idiocy... 

It takes his breath away.

He can't believe he's lucky enough to witness such a thing, to be loved by someone so beautiful and as warm and bright as the sun.

"I love you," he blurts while he's three fingers deep in Minho's ass.

 _"Ha―"_ Minho gasps, smiling dopily. "I love you, too. I'd love you even more if you'd fuck me already."

"I was trying to be romantic!" Jisung cries, angling his fingers up towards Minho's prostate for revenge. Minho's back arches with a lewd moan that makes Jisung that much more desperate to be inside him, but not enough to relent on his teasing just yet.

"Fucking me is very romantic!" Minho retorts.

"'Fuck me' sounds so... crass," Jisung contemplates as he continues to stretch Minho's hole. "Not that I don't _like_ it, just―I wouldn't call it romantic."

"Oh my God," Minho groans, huffing out an incredulous laugh that's interrupted by a moan. "Fine. Make love to me, Jisungie. _Take_ me. Make me yours with your big co―"

"Okay! I get it!" Jisung all but shrieks, his face set aflame as he hurries to clap his free hand over Minho's mouth. Minho licks his palm and he recoils on instinct, even though he is very much acquainted with Minho's tongue at this point.

"You can dish it out but you can't take it," Minho says, tutting.

"You seem to like _taking it_ more, anyway," Jisung can't help but tease, laughing when Minho's jaw drops.

"Actually, I've changed my mind," he says. "I'm not in love with you."

"No take-backs, baby." Jisung dips down to peck his lips. "Are you ready?"

"I've been ready," Minho answers with a hint of exasperation. Jisung reflexively reaches for the lube and condom only to fluster when he remembers they aren't using the latter. He's going to feel Minho, _all_ of him, and honestly he might fucking die.

"How do you wanna do this?" Jisung asks, uncapping the lube. Minho sits up on his knees, hands fidgeting.

"I kind of wanna ride you," he says timidly. "Is that okay?"

It's something they've only tried once, but the reverse. Jisung had bounced in Minho's lap until he couldn't anymore―which hadn't been very long; his leg muscles are... well, not quite as developed as his upper body's. Minho's muscular thighs are a different story though, and Jisung is practically salivating at the mere thought of a front-row seat to his godly legs working to bounce him on Jisung's cock.

"Fuck, by all means," Jisung tells him, leaning in to steal a kiss before settling back against the pillows and making grabby hands for Minho, earning him a pretty smile. His stomach is somersaulting with anticipation as Minho crawls into his lap, straddling him as he uncaps the lube and squirts some into his palm.

Jisung lets out a soft sigh while he watches Minho cover him in lube, taking the liberty of rubbing the excess on his own length. He grinds it gently against Jisung's, reminiscent of the first night they did anything like this.

They've come so far since then, and yet, everything feels the same, feels _right_. Natural. Like puzzle pieces, like they were meant to be from the start.

"Déjà vu?" Minho giggles, reading his mind.

"Yeah," Jisung laughs breathily. "I can't believe everything didn't click into place then and there."

Minho scoffs. _"I_ can't believe I didn't break down and ask you to just fuck me. After you punched that prick... oh my _God."_

"Oh?" Jisung dons a shit-eating grin. "Maybe I should get into fights more often."

 _"No,_ you definitely shouldn't. Even if it _was_ sexy."

"I didn't know you were into bad boys," Jisung teases.

"That would be bad news for my good boy, wouldn't it?" Minho says sweetly, stroking Jisung's cheek which definitely does _not_ erupt into flames at the words.

"Stop," he whines.

"You love it," Minho giggles, bending down for a kiss. Yeah, Jisung definitely does.

In the meantime, he inches up Jisung's body until he's hovering above his dick, reaching behind him to position him at his entrance. Jisung slides his hands up Minho's thighs, rubbing encouraging circles into the supple flesh there while Minho eases the tip in. His mouth goes slack against Jisung's as he sinks down slowly, breathing ragged.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Jisung murmurs, attaching lips to Minho's neck. Minho braces himself on Jisung's shoulders while Jisung's head swims with the feeling of Minho's tight warmth around him as he takes him in slowly, hindered by neither condoms nor Jisung's stupidity. He feels _everything_ , everywhere, and it's _so much._

He keeps whispering praises of how good Minho feels, how he takes him so well, how perfect he is, until Minho is sitting flush against Jisung's hips. His nails slowly release their tight grip on Jisung's shoulders, like a cat sheathing his claws, and he sighs, dipping down as his lips find the younger's again.

They kiss like time ceases to exist, like the world stops spinning to let them make up for time they've lost, to map out their bodies with loving hands, show each other exactly what their love feels like again and again. No doubts, no worries, no hesitation.

Just Minho and Jisung.

For all their bickering and teasing before, the air between them now is remarkably quiet, filled with nothing but heavy breaths and soft moans as Minho begins grinding his hips. They gaze deep into each other's eyes, hooded with lust and shining with love.

It gets harder for Jisung to maintain the quiet atmosphere when Minho starts lifting up on his knees and dropping back down, working Jisung's cock into him with soft mewls, thighs tensing beneath Jisung's fingers.

"Oh, Jisung," Minho whispers, hips rolling sinfully every time Jisung is driven into him. "Touch me."

Jisung doesn't have to be told twice, quick to take Minho into his hand and pump him in time with his hips. His other hand wanders higher, smoothing up Minho's side before stopping at his chest, kneading the muscle before lightly pulling at his nipple. Minho tilts his head back with a moan and a shaky _fuck._

"You're so beautiful," Jisung says, filled with awe and affection for the boy on top of him. "I can't believe you're mine."

The words fall from his lips without any thought, most rational thought lost to a sea of pleasure, until Minho's head snapping down to meet his gaze brings Jisung to his senses and makes him realize what he's just said.

Thankfully, Minho doesn't seem put off by it; if anything, he's quite the opposite, hips faltering in their rhythm and pupils blown wide, dark and full of want.

"Say it again."

"You're beautiful," Jisung repeats, both hands meeting Minho's waist as he guides him to grind down a little faster, a little harder. "You're _mine."_

Minho keens high in his throat, grinding down more fervently, whispers of "Yours, yours," leaving his red lips like a mantra. Jisung snakes his hands around to Minho's ass, spreading him wider, bucking his hips up, fucking him deeper.

He cries out, slumping over Jisung while he plants his feet on the fucks into him. His thrusts are slow but deep, drawing pretty whimpers from Minho that are muffled against Jisung's neck while shaky hands cling to Jisung's arms like they're the only thing keeping him anchored to sanity.

"Feel good, baby?" Jisung asks, snapping his hips up into him.

"So good," Minho gasps, "so good for me, Jisungie. You were made for me, baby, love you so much."

 _Baby?_ Fuck, that's new―from Minho, anyway. The combination of the pet name and the praise stokes the fire in Jisung until it _rages_ and he feels like it might devour him. Suddenly everything is too much and not enough, too fast, too slow, too much space between them.

He's buried to the hilt in Minho, but he needs to be closer, _closer,_ until he can't tell where he ends and Minho begins, until they're so molded to each other's forms that their souls mold together, too.

Jisung sits up, bringing Minho with him and guiding the older to wrap his legs around Jisung's waist. He pulls Minho down for a kiss, a hand on either side of his neck, and licks into his mouth like he needs it to live. Minho moans softly, wraps his arms around Jisung's neck and grinds into him again, his weeping cock smearing precome and lube across Jisung's stomach.

Jisung reaches between them, pumping Minho and thumbing over his slit while he bounces gently, providing just enough stimulation to drive them both crazy. Minho huffs a soft laugh against his mouth when the mattress starts squeaking. Jisung ends up giggling with him but doesn't let up, keeps kissing him until he can hardly breathe, keeps fisting his cock and subtly rolling his hips up into him.

Minho reaches impatience just moments before Jisung himself, grinding down with more purpose, hands insistently tugging Jisung's hair. His mouth is more eager, desire palpable as he lets Jisung's bottom lip drag between his teeth and then laves his tongue over it soothingly.

_"Jisung."_

"Hmm?" he hums even though he knows exactly what Minho wants. Jisung wants it, too.

"Please," he whispers.

There's an itch to tease Minho, to get him to say it, maybe see if he's desperate enough to beg, but there's plenty of time for that later. Now, Jisung would surrender to Minho's every whim without question, would do anything he asked of him. It would be a crime to deny him now, when they've just bared their hearts to one another, more raw and vulnerable than ever.

So, Jisung guides him to lie on his back, Minho letting out a little whine when he slips out of him. Jisung repositions himself, but hesitates, making a split-second decision to roll Minho onto his side. Minho is pliant, watching curiously as Jisung grabs the lube again to apply a fresh layer, cheeks pink when Jisung makes eye contact while stroking himself.

Jisung smiles before slotting himself behind Minho as he's done so many times to spoon him to sleep. His left arm slips under Minho's neck while his free hand pulls Minho flush against him, Minho happily accommodating him.

"This okay?" Jisung checks gently.

"Yeah." Minho nods quickly. "Just..." He grinds back against Jisung impatiently, making him hiss in his ear.

"I've got you, needy baby," Jisung giggles, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. He guides himself back to Minho's entrance and presses inside, heart swelling in his chest when Minho takes his free hand into his own, entwining their fingers and brushing lips against his knuckles.

 _"Oh,"_ Minho gasps on the first thrust, and Jisung gives himself a metaphorical pat on the back for his decision.

Jisung hums, sliding his hand down to knead Minho's thigh before lifting it in the air and snapping his hips into him harder, throbbing from the moan Minho lets out alone. "Let it all out, baby," he encourages, wanting to hear Minho's sweet sounds while they're alone and he can. He picks up his rhythm, his own strangled moans joining Minho's and the lewd sounds of lube and slapping skin.

"Oh my fucking _God,_ Ji―oh, _fuck."_ Minho throws his head back with a moan, coming undone quickly as Jisung rams his sweet spot again and again. His grip on Jisung's hand is white-knuckled as he twists his shoulders enough to grab the back of Jisung's neck, pulling him in for a messy, desperate kiss.

Jisung pulls away first to focus on making Minho fall apart, trailing his lips down to Minho's neck where he sucks hard, trying to hold himself together until Minho comes. He's holding on by a thread as his fingers dig into Minho's thick thigh hard enough to leave little bruises, practically slobbering on Minho's neck as he uses every bit of his remaining strength to fuck into him harder, deeper.

"Minho, I'm so fucking _close,"_ Jisung whines, biting down on the juncture between Minho's neck and shoulder. "I-I can't―Feels so good―"

"Me too, me too," he pants, jerking himself off in time as best he can with Jisung's erratic thrusts. "Fuck, _fuck._ Fill me up, Jisungie."

 _Shit._ Jisung hadn't even thought this far ahead, maybe assumed in the back of his mind that he would pull out when the time came, but again, who is he to deny Minho anything?

All it takes is a couple more thrusts and Minho mumbling something mostly-incoherent along the lines of calling Jisung a _good boy_ , and then Jisung is crying out into Minho's neck as his orgasm wracks through his body. His arm is shaky where he holds Minho's thigh and his hips are stuttering, but he doesn't have to hold out much longer as Minho's body goes rigid right after and he gasps out a wanton moan.

"God," Jisung groans, thrusting lazily as they ride out their orgasms. He releases Minho's thigh and Minho himself slumps down similarly, spent.

There's no sound but heavy breaths between them for a moment as Minho brings their interlaced hands to his mouth, leaving a lingering kiss on the back of Jisung's. He lets go to roll over, making Jisung slip out in the process. Minho winces and makes a disturbed expression, presumably at the feeling of Jisung's cum leaking out of him.

"You okay?" Jisung laughs breathlessly as Minho settles on his other side, facing him. Any trace of negativity has melted away from his features as he cups Jisung's face and strokes his thumb over his cheek tenderly, smiling as he leans in to connect their lips.

It's short and chaste compared to everything they've shared tonight, but it makes Jisung's heart do a little happy dance all the same.

"Was it good?" Jisung asks as Minho brushes his damp hair off his forehead. "Y'know, besides the..." He glances down to where Minho's sheets are probably being dirtied.

Minho's eyes turn to crescents as he giggles. "It was perfect," he says. "All of it." He pecks Jisung's nose. "All of you."

"Cheesy," Jisung mumbles, cheeks warm.

"You love me."

Jisung heaves a sigh of faux exasperation. "I _guess."_ Minho slaps his arm and Jisung giggles, pulling him close and hugging him tight. He shivers when Minho takes the opportunity to kiss his neck.

"We should get cleaned up," Minho murmurs into his skin.

Jisung whines, hyper-aware of the sticky mess of cum between them and in Minho's ass, but after sprinting here and using the remaining bit of his energy to make love to Minho, he kind of just wants to not move for several hours.

"C'mon," Minho whines in turn, digging fingers into Jisung's ribs that make him yelp and squirm. "You don't wanna do it in the shower?"

Jisung perks up despite himself, then groans. "I need a nap first. You sapped the energy out of me, you succubus."

"You don't need energy to take it up the ass," Minho deadpans. Jisung blinks at him, wide-eyed. "I-If you want to. We don't _have_ to, or anything―"

"Lee Minho," Jisung says fondly, taking his face into his hands, "you are so, _so_ insatiably horny." Minho opens his mouth to retort before Jisung interrupts him with a kiss. "But so am I, so let's do it."

It's the first time they've showered together, but Jisung is pretty sure Minho just ruined showering alone for him forever.

Minho lathers his hair with shampoo and scrubs it in with so much care, kisses him under the spray of water until they accidentally get soap in their mouths, fingers him open, and fucks him against the wall until the water turns cold. After everything, Jisung's legs are shaky, so Minho carries him back to his bed and drops him on his fresh sheets to rub his hair dry with a towel.

"Should we even bother getting dressed?" Jisung wonders, stretching and making himself comfortable against Minho's pillows.

"I was thinking of asking if you wanted to go grab dinner, but I'm pretty sure there's a 'no clothes, no service' rule."

Jisung suppresses a pout, not really feeling like going back out today if he can help it, but Minho comes first. "I guess I could stand to get dressed."

Minho plops down on the bed beside him after drying off and stepping into some underwear. He smiles, smoothing Jisung's wet hair off his forehead to bend down and plant a kiss there. "No, it's okay. Let's just order in. I know the baby is sleepy."

"I'm not sleepy!" Jisung whines. "Just... _tired."_

"I know. It's been a long day." Minho smiles, running his hand through Jisung's hair. Jisung happily leans into the touch. "We can go on our first real date this weekend."

Butterflies flutter in Jisung's stomach while he looks up at Minho like he's seeing him for the first time, like they're picking up where they left off and starting over all at once―best friends, and something more.

"Okay." He beams, pulling Minho down for a kiss.

They don't need to put a name to it just yet if Minho doesn't want to. Jisung just needs Minho, his best friend, his _baby,_ and everything will be fine.

"Besides..." Minho murmurs against his lips, "if we don't go out, I get to do this."

In an instant, he's flipping Jisung over with a hand on his hip and landing a resounding smack on his bare ass. Jisung yells and Minho cackles, sprinting out of the room before he can get payback. Jisung shakes his head, flopping back down onto the pillow and pulling an extra one over his face to hide his goofy smile.

_I'm so in love with that idiot._

☆彡

They've long since finished the food they had delivered and are huddled up on Minho's couch, Jisung's legs draped over his lap with Minho's arm wound around him. The upbeat ending music of the drama they had been watching plays while Jisung huddles into Minho, chilly despite the blanket draped over them.

(He'd opted to put on some underwear earlier to avoid any more affronts to his bare ass _and_ because walking around with his dick out is more than a little embarrassing no matter how much Minho seems to like it.)

"I guess I should put some clothes on before Chan gets back, huh?" Jisung sighs, casting a glance at the cracks in the blinds and the black sky that reminds him it's steadily getting later. He's really enjoying having Minho all to himself and is reluctant to have the bubble around them popped by Minho's roommate returning.

"Oh, I didn't tell you?" Minho grins, absently twirling a finger through Jisung's hair.

"Tell me what?"

"Chan's gone home for the weekend," Minho says, pressing a kiss to Jisung's jaw. "I'm gonna be really lonely here all by myself." Another kiss. Then he pulls away. "You know, rabbits die when they're lonely."

"Oh..." Jisung's lips part in realization, heart hammering in anticipation, before his lips stretch into a shitty little grin. "Damn. That sucks."

Minho groans and shoves him off his lap. Jisung laughs, scrambling back up to straddle him and grab his face, suddenly alight with the desire to feel his lips against his own, so he chases that desire. They melt against each other, Minho's hands rubbing soothing circles on Jisung's bare back while Jisung returns the favor by moving a hand to his hair.

They break apart for air, Jisung resting his forehead against Minho's while they smile at one another like idiots.

"Will you stay with me?" Minho asks, nuzzling into Jisung's hand.

"Of course," Jisung answers, pecking Minho's nose where his cute little mole resides. He recites a motto he's been mentally using a lot when it comes to Minho these days. "A friend in need is a friend in need."

Minho's eyebrows raise. "Friend?"

 _Oh._ Jisung hadn't expected this conversation to come so soon. He's willing to go at whatever pace Minho is comfortable with, but he dares to hope, testing the waters timidly.

 _"Boy..._ friend?"

Minho beams, his smile bright enough to light the night sky. "I like that."

Jisung matches his smile. "Me, too."

And a boyfriend in need is a boyfriend in need, so Jisung is there to kiss him breathless, to cuddle him to sleep, to fuck like rabbits until Chan returns and then some.

There's no cure for being horny, but together, they'll make it through.

☆彡


	5. Chapter 5

**Jisung**  
yo yo yo  
alcohol and super smash bros on saturday at my place  
be there or be gay

 **Changbin**  
we're literally all gay

 **Minho**  
so be here and be gay  
let's all be gay together~

 **Jisung**  
oh baby that sounds like a good time

 **Seungmin**  
that sounds completely horrifying

 **Jeongin**  
you're forgetting you added me to the gc  
i will not be participating in any orgies

 **Changbin**  
NEITHER WILL WE???

 **Minho**  
so you're homophobic

 **Jeongin**  
oh my god again with this

 **Jisung**  
it's okay innie we get it  
you don't agree with our lifestyle  
that's fine

 **Jeongin**  
the only lifestyle i don't agree with is the one where i have to hear you two fuck constantly

 **Minho**  
i have needs

 **Jeongin**  
fucking clearly  
being horny is a disease bitch get well soon

 **Jisung**  
if you don't like it just go stay with changbin  
i'm sure he and seungmin have more self-control

 **Jeongin**  
see that's what i thought  
but that night i did?  
y'know  
when you guys kicked me out?

 **Seungmin**  
please stop

 **Changbin**  
jeongin  
sweet jeongin who i love so very much  
shhhhhh

 **Jisung**  
it was valentine's day!!!

 **Jeongin**  
yeah well it was valentine's day for them too  
believe it or not  
ugh. disgusting

 **Seungmin**  
wow he really is homophobic

 **Minho**  
i expected more from you

 **Jeongin**  
keep it up and i will be

 **Jisung**  
anyways!!  
everyone's coming right?  
bring snacks and drinks :D

 **Changbin**  
me and seungmo will be there  
he has no choice

 **Seungmin**  
oh joy

 **Jeongin**  
i live here so

 **Minho**  
me too

 **Jeongin**  
then pay rent

 **Jisung**  
babyyy  
can you pick me up a coffee  
i love you

 **Jeongin**  
can you message him privately

 **Minho**  
i already passed the cafe

 **Jisung**  
;~;

 **Changbin**  
he's turning around as we speak

 **Minho**  
shut the fuck up  
you don't know me

 **Seungmin**  
he definitely is

 **Jeongin**  
wait minho's coming over?  
that's my cue to leave

 **Jisung**  
come onnn  
we weren't even gonna do anything

 **Jeongin**  
not risking it  
bye

 **Minho**  
what kind of coffee do u want

 **Changbin**  
HAHAHAHAHAHA

 **Seungmin**  
LMAOOO

 **Minho**  
die  
jisung???

 **Jeongin**  
he fell asleep on the couch

 **Minho**  
leave the door unlocked for me

 **Jeongin**  
no i don't think i will

 **Minho**  
bitch

 **Changbin**  
the homophobia never ends

 **Seungmin**  
deserved

☆彡

Days later, Jisung is looking around his and Jeongin's den with a dopey grin on his face, heart full and light.

Minho and Jeongin are sitting on the floor having a screaming match over Super Smash Brothers as they play with their whole bodies, jerking around wildly while their on-screen characters fight. Minho is losing terribly, and it's evident by his pained wails and Jeongin's borderline evil cackles as he pummels him over and over.

Seungmin and Changbin are sitting off to the side watching with amusement, Changbin between Seungmin's legs with his back against his chest while Seungmin's arms wind around his middle, holding him close. They steal quick kisses when they think no one is looking.

Seungmin had confessed his feelings to Changbin just a few days after Jisung talked to him about it. The earliest stages of their relationship were nowhere near as quick or convoluted as Jisung and Minho's, having opted to take things slow and take each other on proper dates before even kissing a second time. It worked for them, evidently, now a few months into being the happiest Jisung's ever seen them.

The same can be said for Minho and him. Every day they grow closer, and Jisung falls more in love. They've kept their promises about communicating better, Minho working with Jisung to come out of his emotional shell, Jisung conveying his worries freely, and holding each other's hands every step of the way.

Jeongin is... Jeongin. He really _is_ a fifth wheel now, but Jisung knows he doesn't mind as much as he lets on.

"Jisungie," Minho whines, dropping the controller as he crawls over to where Jisung sits on the sofa. There's a pout on his lips, a flush on his cheeks from the alcohol as he wraps his arms around Jisung's waist and rests his head in his lap. "Your evil roommate is bullying me."

"Aww," Jisung coos, brushing a hand through his hair. "Want me to beat him up?"

"Please," Minho responds.

"Ha! I'd like to see you try!" Jeongin sits up tall and proud, waving Minho's abandoned controller in the air.

"Oh, you are _so_ dead," Jisung proclaims, lunging for it. He has to pry Minho off of him with promises of defending his honor.

Minho settles for sitting behind Jisung and wrapping his limbs around him, nuzzling into his neck. It's significantly harder to focus with Minho's lips on his neck, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

Seungmin and Changbin boo and cheer, respectively, as Jisung's character gains the upper hand over Jeongin's, and by some miracle, Jisung manages to knock him off the platform and secure a victory. Jisung yells, fists pumping the air triumphantly while Minho congratulates him loudly in his ear and Jeongin reluctantly, _dramatically_ bows to him.

Minho rolls onto his back on the floor, pulling Jisung with him as he flails powerlessly in his hold. He squirms and twists around in his grip until they're face-to-face, beaming.

"You've avenged me," Minho says. "However can I repay you?"

Jisung ignores the jeers and the _get a room!_ yelled at them to brush Minho's hair out of his face and take in features that he knows like the back of his hand, but never cease to take his breath away. "A kiss should suffice, I think."

"A kiss it is," he says, puckering his lips exaggeratedly.

"I need another drink," he hears Jeongin grumble.

"They're not _that_ bad." Jisung is shocked to hear Seungmin defend their behavior. "...Yet."

"C'mon!" Changbin shouts. "Give us a show!"

Jisung laughs, loud and hearty, and takes Minho's face into his hands to kiss him again and again until their friends beg them to stop.

He pulls away after one final peck, a fond look and so much warmth shared between them.

Jisung rests his head on Minho's chest, listening to his heart beat in one ear and his friends' laughter in the other.

He closes his eyes in bliss, and he thanks his lucky star.

☆彡

**Author's Note:**

> ☆: you're welcome bitch
> 
> WELP!! you made it to the end! i wrote the majority of this in 2 weeks and suffered so much but i grew so fond of them.. i really hope you liked it if you read this far!!  
> shoutout to hyunchanlix sorry you barely existed in this fic i didn't know what to do with u  
> and don't forget to check out the other works for the fest! you can find the collection on ao3 [here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/msficathon_round_one/profile) and the event twitter [here](https://twitter.com/minsungficathon)!
> 
> thank you for reading, kudos and comments are very much appreciated! <3  
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/mewnsung)


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